Tethered
by Corabel
Summary: "You know, it would have been so much simpler and satisfying to watch the flames devour you and all of your filthy friends. But you chose, didn't you? You wanted this, and I saved you. Is this how you show me your gratitude?" He sneered at her. "You'd do well not to disobey me my sweet little mudblood. "
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters. _

_Hey guys, so I fancied writing a Dark Draco for a change and then after a few weeks of thinking, I finally cooked up this one. I must warn you that this one is not for the faint-hearted and contains many instances of violence and rape which some of you may find offensive. If this is the case then please do not read. Let me know your thoughts before I continue, as I would like to decide whether or not this particular story is worth my time. _

_It's set in an alternate universe where Draco is Voldemort's second in command after the Order lost the war and Muggle-Borns are now social outcasts and are hunted by the Death Eaters (you've probably seen this instance before so I won't ramble). _

_Just to reiterate since some of you didn't read all of this: __**Contains instances of violence and rape - do not read if easily offended.**__ - Don't say I didn't warn you. _

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**_Chapter I_**

**_ "Tether: tie (an animal) with a rope or chain so as to restrict its movement"_**

The sounds of clinking and slurping filled the dank kitchen of Grimmauld Place; the main hiding place for their kind in this world of prejudice and injustice. The girl with the chestnut curls forced a cheerful smile on her face as she spooned a second helping of the peculiar looking broth into the bowls of the hungry, while ignoring the protesting growls that her own stomach was making.

To those who sat around the table with her, she was a saviour. She provided them with refuge from the evil doings of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, much like her extinct Order of the Phoenix had before her. She was all that remained after the massacre and there was no hope left in the world for their kind now.

Her stomach contorted painfully and she could feel it starting to swell with her lack of food, but she smiled all the while as she watched familiar faces from her childhood, worn and abused, light up with the kindness that she would show them.

It was two years ago now, that Harry Potter had died. It was two years ago that Voldemort had triumphed and as a result, most that she held dear to her were taken while she herself was made an outcast, a pariah and it was all due to her parentage. Muggle-Borns like she were hunted in the Magical Community. They were tainted, dirty and unworthy of their magic. Such was the belief of the chauvinistic supremacists who now ruled their world.

She would never let this bring her down. Her people looked to her for faith and guidance. If she lost all hope then so did they and she could not let that happen. For they were much better off than most because they were all together and had secured an appropriate hiding place. Others weren't so fortunate and were either sent off to Mudblood Relocation Camps or were forced to beg along the streets for their food, selling themselves for a mere crust of bread.

Some of the more fortunate managed to pass unnoticed, and as long as they stayed in the shadows of the Magical Community, they weren't pestered. Such was the case of many who sat around the rustic table in the kitchens of Grimmauld Place. That was why they had gone undetected for so long.

They were a mismatched but close-knit family now after the years of living in constant fear together. Colin and Dennis Creevey, Kevin Entwhistle, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott and Dean Thomas were some of the more familiar faces who had been with Hermione right from the beginning. Others had been rescued through the years, such was the case of their youngest; little Emma Butler who Hermione had managed to save from a group of Death Eaters.

She distinctly remembered stumbling across the ruckus, quite by accident as she hurried back from the market, hoarding her supplies for everybody in her woven basket. She had heard the screams of the mother and rushed over to see Death Eaters trying to wrestle the small bundle out of her arms. She had only ended up dead, for she was just a Muggle against two trained Death Eaters. Hermione had managed to save little Emma from certain death and she had lit up the lives of those who lived in Grimmauld Place.

The rhythmic knocking of the front door sent the whole table crashing into a dreaded silence. Spoons clattered into bowls as hands began to shake. Cool dread began to pool in the stomach of each and every person sitting around this table as they all knew that they would be killed upon being caught.

Hermione rose from the table and quickly rushed out of the kitchen, closing the door behind her. She strode down the long hallway and stood on her tiptoes to look through the peephole that she had installed in the door to see a very familiar face. A smile spread across her face as she hastily opened the door and pulled her guest inside and pulled him into her embrace.

The visitor reached up and jerked off his black hood before discarding the silver mask that he wore on his face. She frowned, not expecting the face of her lover to appear so fearful. Perspiration dotted his upper lip and gleaned his forehead, causing his caramel coloured locks to stick to his skin.

"Adrian? What is it?" She asked alarmingly. Adrian Pucey took a moment to catch his breath before tightly grasping the hands of his beloved and holding them close to him.

"For the love of Merlin, don't ask me how; but he knows." Adrian panted before bowing his head and taking a series of rapid breaths. She could tell that whatever had happened had caused him to rush here as if his life depended on it. "He knows that you're here. He's going to storm the place as soon as he can assemble enough men."

"No!" Hermione gasped, pulling her hands from his and placing them over her mouth as the cold dread curled in her stomach. She knew deep down inside that he would find her eventually, just as he vowed that he would. But she couldn't let her people get hurt in the process. She turned on her heel and ran back to the kitchen with Adrian following closely behind her. "Everybody listen up! They're coming. We need to waste no time and get out of here immediately. Grab what you can and we'll be on our way, but hurry!" She pleaded, with desperation laced in her voice.

Everyone at the table rose quickly, prepared for such an event due to Hermione's constant drills. They all sprinted for the stairs to pack everything that they could carry. Hermione lifted Emma out of her chair and soothed her anguished wails before shoving the meagre amounts of food that remained in the pantry into a rucksack which she slung on her back.

"Adrian, I need you to help me get everyone downstairs. We need to leave right now." She spoke desperately praying to every deity that she never believed in to allow her to escape _his_ suffocating grasp. Rushing up the stairs with baby Emma bouncing in her arms as she went, she forced her way into each and every room, ordering everybody downstairs, beseeching that they leave behind what wasn't necessary.

They all assembled in the small hallway as the thick atmosphere of panic and fear filled the air. Hermione grabbed hold of Adrian's hand as they all burst out onto the quiet street that was Grimmauld Place, the darkness shrouding them from the regular activities of the Muggles that lived around them. They rushed across the street and into the small park that sat in the centre of the square which was the only decent place nearby from which Adrian could apparate them. The overgrown weeds tried to claw at her legs as she ran, as if trying to drag her back, only to fall into his clutches. She could not allow him to find her, or her people. Her heart was pounding in her chest, she could hear it in her ears like a hammer against cloth over the muffled orders that Adrian was issuing to everybody,

It all happened very quickly. Just as Adrian withdrew his wand, Hermione heard the multitude of 'pops' around her, signalling the arrival of several strangers who were shrouded in black besides the glinting silver masks that covered their faces. Chaos followed and she watched as the Death Eaters simultaneously rushed towards them and stunned the majority of their group.

Hermione was rooted in place as one Death Eater made his way towards her. She knew him too well as he had been in pursuit of her over the last two years. His pale face remained unmasked and his cold, steely eyes bore into her prompting her to shrink under his intimidating glare.

His deep laughter filled the silence that ensued as he reached out a gloved hand to take possession of her. "At last, you're mine."

~*:*~

Hermione cowered in the corner of her cell with her hands pressed firmly over her ears as she tried to block out the tortured screams of her people that echoed off the stone walls that encompassed them all. The salty tears dripped off her cheeks as they endured their fate, crying out for their pain to end, their oppressors to relent.

She heard him before she saw him. The sound of his boots resounded on the floor, increasing in volume as he made his way towards her cell. The fine hair on the back of her neck stood erect when he came to a halt outside her cell. She sat still, not daring to turn and look into his eyes.

She heard the hinges of the cell door protesting as he forced it open and entered her little prison. She could feel her small hands shaking timidly as she stood from the floor and turned to see him entering her cell. The hem of his black robes caressed the floor as he turned to lock the door behind him, leaving them both alone inside the suffocating stone walls.

"It has been a long time, hasn't it mudblood?" Came his cold drawl.

She turned her nose up at him. "Not long enough, Malfoy." She spoke confidently as he started to circle her in a predatory fashion.

"You forget yourself little mudblood." He said in mock astonishment, grinning as he toyed with the trembling girl who stood in the centre of the cell. "Remember whose hands your life lies in." He snarled.

"What are you waiting for then? Kill me so I can be free of your insufferable presence." She challenged him, closing her eyes as he advanced towards her. His fingers pinched painfully into her face as he forcefully grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

He inhaled deeply in her hair, closing his eyes as the scent of vanilla overwhelmed his senses. "You forget to whom you speak." He whispered abruptly, forcefully throwing her to the ground before him; desire burning in his irises as he watched her mass of chestnut curls tumble across her face while she glared up at him through her lashes. "And here, I came to make a bargain with you, only to be treated with such hostility."

"A bargain?" She questioned, pushing her rampant curls from her face which bore two red finger marks on either side of her jaw. Her conscience was screaming at her, she knew better than to make a bargain with such a man. But she thought it better to hear what he had to say, for nothing could be worse than the consuming grip of the flames which would extinguish her puny existence. She shuffled away from him until she was backed up against the wall before slowly rising to her feet again.

He advanced towards her again and curled his hand possessively around her neck, caressing the smooth skin there while taking great pleasure in the fact that one squeeze could end her. "Be mine." He purred.

She wrenched away from his grip. "I'd rather die a thousand deaths." She hissed venomously before spitting in his face. He was not defeated so easily and grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back to him, eliciting a pained whimper which almost made him groan with pleasure.

"That can be arranged, sweet little mudblood. See, I'm building a little bonfire and you and your friends will be quite the main event. Quite the fitting punishment for a _witch_, wouldn't you agree?" He let out a smooth and sultry laugh which she could feel rumbling against her back.

She was entirely repulsed and wanted nothing more than to push him off her, even if it did mean taking another hit. She would prefer that to his close proximity which was just unnerving. This man was supposed to be Voldemort's right hand man, he had killed and condemned countless amounts of people of her kind. He had committed all sorts of atrocities against humanity and here he was, trying to convince her to be his. She shivered with disgust.

Another pained scream ripped through the air, one that Hermione was glad that she didn't quite recognise for she felt awful enough as it is. "You hear that? Their pain and suffering could be stopped if you would bow to my wishes." He whispered into her ear causing her to cringe as his cool breath swept across the side of her face.

"You'd let them go?" She asked, hope laced in her voice.

"You have my word." He replied smoothly.

"_All_ of them, including Adrian." She ordered.

"And in return, you belong to me. You are mine to do with as I see fit and you will bow to each and every whim of mine. In exchange, I give you my word that they will be set free and unharmed."

A wise man had once told her that sometimes we must choose between doing what is right, and what is easy. It would be much easier for her to refuse his offer and give him a piece of her mind for thinking so low of her before she was sent to the flames, but then she thought of all of the people who depended on her; the people who had put their unwavering trust and loyalty into her. Could she really condemn them to burn alongside her?

Her eyes glazed over as she realised what she must do. The first tear trickled down her cheek as he continued to curl his fingers around her exposed neck. She nodded her head silently, resigning herself to her cruel fate.

"I'll do it." She whispered.

~*:*~

She watched sadly from the window of the room in which she was imprisoned as each and every person that she cared about were escorted from the city. She watched as they desperately looked around for her, calling her name before being silenced harshly by the accompanying Death Eaters. She could see that Emma's face was red from her uncontrollable crying as Adrian struggled to wrench himself from the grip of their escort. She knew that he was looking for her and it broke her heart to see him go, but she had saved their lives and secured them something that any Muggle-Borns would be lucky to have in this harsh reality. Freedom.

She heard the rattling of the lock on the door but did not turn to see him as he entered her new prison. If her circumstances were different, she would definitely appreciate the lavish furnishings of the room in which she had been kept with its innumerable amount of bookshelves which lined the walls, each full to the brim with books which he knew that she would be keen to devour. In the centre of the opposite wall sat a gargantuan bed which she daren't look at, for she knew what would happen there in only a short matter of time. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself but her body betrayed her and began to quiver.

He noticed that her legs were shaking uncontrollably as he turned to face her, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Hermione." His tongue caressed each syllable of her name as it spilled from his lips, causing her to shiver. The fine hair on her arms was standing to attention as the cold fear spread through her body.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed as he made towards her. She instinctively took a few steps back, holding her hands out in front of her defensively; her eyes glassy with the tears that she was desperately trying to keep at bay. He was unperturbed by her obvious grief and continued to advance towards her with his grey irises darkening with lust as they drank in every inch of her deliciously tempting body. Despite her tears and humiliation, she held her head high as if to challenge him and he relished in the knowledge that he was going to destroy her spirit. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to destroy every last infuriating part of her that he detested so, and what better a way to go about it than this?

A pale hand reached up to take hold of her chestnut coloured locks which he sniffed deeply, burying his face into her neck. He could feel the constricting of her throat and the trembling of her shoulders as he continued with his assault.

"Malfoy, please don't." She pleaded, the tears beginning to cloud her vision.

"Don't what, my sweet little mudblood?" He asked before curling a hand around the back of her neck and forcing his mouth to hers, snaking his tongue between her lips as she yelled out in protest. His arms caged her and there was no escape, despite her struggles as she was physically too weak to put up a resistance against him. She felt increasingly uncomfortable for each additional second that his lips remained on hers, and the feelings of shame and disgust crept upon her, making her want to claw off her own skin until they subsided.

His lips worked with increasing fervour against her reluctant ones while his hands roamed down the body that he had longed for, for two whole years. The moment that he reached the small of her back, she became aware of the unfamiliar sensation and using all of her might, she pushed against him causing him to stumble backwards with the force of her. Again, she backed away, rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand before spitting him out of her mouth.

"You disgust me." She sobbed. "You're sick, forcing yourself on a woman like this." The tears began to brim and before she could rein them in, one solitary tear escaped her eye and traced the curve of her cheek. She could see through the blurriness of her tears as pure hatred filled his eyes and he lunged for her, grabbing her hair and curling it around his fist so that he could hold her in place.

"You know, it would have been so much simpler and satisfying to watch the flames devour you and all of your filthy friends. But you chose, didn't you? You wanted this, and I _saved _you. Is this how you show me your gratitude?" He sneered at her. "You'd do well not to disobey me my sweet little mudblood. Now, am I not merciful for letting your friends go?" He asked her in a dominating voice.

Her only reply was the sniffling that accompanied her tears.

"Answer me! Am I not merciful for letting you live?" He demanded.

"Yes, you are." She sobbed submissively as he tightened his hold on her hair.

"Then I should be rewarded. After all, a good deed never goes unpunished." He smirked before reaching for the hem of Hermione's robe. His excitement increased and he knew that she was probably aware of the obvious bulge in his pants by now. He had waited for this moment for years, to put her in her place and cruelly ravish the body that should not have been bestowed upon such a filthy creature.

As he pulled away the last of her robe, his breathing increased sharply as he admired every dip and curve of her beautiful body that called to him like a siren, taunting him with its sweet, delicious temptation. He moved her over to the bed and forced her to sit. Her head hung low with her shame; her curls covering her ample breasts as her shoulders jerked. He forced his hand under her chin and tilted her head up to meet his gaze roughly.

"You will keep your eyes open for every moment of this and keep them on me. Do you understand? I want you to know who's fucking you."

She nodded brokenly, still deliberating whether she should lay back and let this monster take her virginity or fight and die beside her people. He made the decision for her and pushed her shoulders back so that she lay on the bed properly, her bare body on display for his viewing pleasure. He followed quickly after her, bracing himself with one arm while craning his neck down to place forceful kisses on her lips, down her jaw and neck until finally reaching her pert breasts which he began to suckle with fervour while her body writhed in protest beneath him. The feeling was so foreign and repulsive to her that she felt her stomach begin to churn.

She squealed as she felt him wriggle his free hand between them to reach for his own arousal and free it from the constraints of his trousers. She could feel his hardness on the inside of her thigh; it was swollen and rigid against her skin. She squirmed as he moved his hand to her other thigh and slowly traced the creamy skin there, edging closer and closer to his ultimate destination.

His breathing was coming out in short pants while she attempted to wrestle him away, she sobbed pitifully the whole time in dread of what was about to follow. The cold of his ring caused her to jump when it made contact with her most secretive organ as the reality of what was about to happen finally sunk in. Fear settled in her stomach and she could feel all of her muscles clenching tightly as she braced herself. She just had to remind herself that she was doing this for her people, for Adrian, while praying that they forgave her.

She closed her eyes and winced as she felt the head of his member lining up with her folds, turning her head from him. She squeezed tears from her eyes, mentally pleading for him to stop, waiting for him to surge forward and steal her innocence.

She waited for what seemed longer than necessary and cracked open an eye in confusion. She could see the paleness of his arm, in contrast to the black mark which was wriggling about angrily on his arm as his Lord called him. She could've cried with relief as she felt him remove his weight off her before standing from the bed and tucking himself back into his trousers, all the while cursing with his obvious irritation at his Lord.

Every fibre of his being yearned to forget about his duty and fall back onto the bed and take what he had longed for. But he knew that his reputation mattered far more than the siren's call of one mudblood. She would still be here waiting for him, while the Dark Lord would not. He looked back to her before he left, admiring her seemingly lifeless and bare form which was spread out across the bed, her face turned away from him. He could see the jerking movements of her chest as she sobbed in which he took great pleasure. His lip curled into a sneer before he slipped silently out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Hermione remained still on the bed, disgusted with the feel that he had left on her body despite the fact that he hadn't even done his worst. She clenched her fists tightly and let the remainder of her restrained tears flow.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters._

_Hey guys, I don't usually update this quickly after only updating a few days ago but I'm thrilled at the responses so far (Also I've taken ill with the flu and so Crucio to the person who spread their germs! I hope you marry Crabbe in the next life). Moving on, the responses so far account to quite possibly the best reception that I've had for a first chapter, so thank you to all guys who took the time to follow, favourite and review my work._

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**_Chapter II_**

She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he walked further and further away from the door, hoping and praying that he would never come back. She wished that some tragedy would befall him before he could return to her and take what he thought was his. What had she ever done to deserve this treatment? She couldn't change who her parents were, nor did she want to, but in his eyes it was something that she should be ashamed of.

The silence was deafening and finally allowed the reality of the past twenty four hours to sink in properly. She remembered waking up in the cold cell little more than half an hour after their capture. The realisation had struck her and she had burst into hysterical tears, for it was all her fault that they had been caught. Had she not been so defiant over the past two years then his attentions may have been concentrated elsewhere.

Only now did she realise that the more she had defied him, the more that he had become perversely enamoured with her. He had put more effort into hunting her down and had resorted to cruel methods to try and get her to reveal herself but she had not because of the people who counted on her; the people who she had let down. For had she turned herself in earlier, they might have been able to avoid the torture and grief that they had been subjected to during the small amount of time that they had been imprisoned beside her.

For the first part of the night, Hermione had cried and blamed herself for their situation while the soothing voices of her friends spilled through the bars of her cell in an attempt to lift her spirit. Though she admired them for trying to make her feel a little less guilty, she knew deep down that she was to blame. The anguish and guilt only became worse as several of the Death Eaters had stormed the dungeons and started torturing her people around her using methods both magical and Muggle.

She had watched as they had hurled insults and made sickening remarks about their kind as the occupants of each cell fell into anarchy. She called desperately for Adrian over the cries, screams and yells of her people alongside the sniggering of the Death Eaters. She had even tried to squeeze her head as much as it would go through the bars in order to see if she could see him in any of the neighbouring cells but she could not. She thought for a moment that she may have heard him shout that he loved her above the chaos but that was the last that she heard of him.

She wondered if he was listening when Malfoy was propositioning her. She wondered if he heard her when she agreed. She remembered the fear clenching her heart when morning finally came as she was dragged from her cell by two Death Eaters who had thrown her into a fireplace which had brought her to her new prison. She hadn't the faintest idea where she was until Malfoy had appeared, but instead of asking the logical question as to where he had brought her she had asked something that had made him enraged.

_'What has become of my beloved?_' She had dared to ask. The look of anger that had he had displayed on his face was one that had shocked her into silence. He had lost himself to the fiery grip of rage and jealousy.

_'He will be just fine unless you speak of him in my presence again.'_ He had thundered before grabbing her by her hair and throwing her into this room, leaving her wondering just how long she would have to wait before he returned, which wasn't until later that evening.

She shivered out of her thoughts before realising that she was still laying sprawled nude on the bed, just as he had left her. She remembered brief flashes of his lustful gaze, his wandering hands and his gluttonous tongue which had roamed her body upon his own whim. She loathed herself for what she had let him do to her. Despair seized her and she screamed out in hopeless pity before clawing at every inch of her exposed skin that she could, tugging at her hair to try and hurt the body that he longed to love. She vowed that she would fight, scream and protest against his intentions every single step of the way. Never would she give in to his fiendish intent.

She leapt up from the bed and ran to the door, tugging at the handle which didn't even squeak in protest with her desperation. She pounded on the door with her tightly clenched fists, crying out to anybody who might be nearby to help her, to save her from the fate to which she was tethered. She put every last scrap of energy into trying to break down the door, hammering until her fists were swollen and raw. Her blows became weaker as her determination waned before the pitiful cries came.

When she finally gave up in her assault, she inspected her fists to see the tender and bruised skin down the side of her smallest finger, running all the way down her hand. There wasn't even a chip in the paintwork of the door which remained practically untouched. She knew that he must've warded it against physical assault and never had she wished for her wand more. All wands in the country were registered during the time that she, Harry and Ron had been on the run searching for Horcruxes. Hers was one of the only ones that hadn't been, but it had been lost during the skirmish at Malfoy Manor all those years ago, a memory which never failed to chill her insides.

She couldn't help but notice that there was no look of lust nor longing in his eyes while she lay on the floor, bleeding and crying as his wicked aunt pounced. In fact, it could be described as one of indifference with a trace of discomfort. What was it that triggered his fanciful obsession with her?

She crawled back towards the window, holding her arm against her chest to cover her modesty, despite the fact that there were no witnesses to her shame. She was as unsullied as a devoted nun and that was the way that she had hoped to remain for a little while longer, but it seemed that Malfoy had other plans about that. She snatched up what remained of her simple robe and dressed herself the best that she could before pressing her throbbing head against the cool window.

The last of the amber light of day was pouring in through the windows, highlighting the faint traces of red in her hair. She gazed longingly at the spot where she had seen her people, the people that she had come to love and trust as they were taken away from her. She longed for Adrian's comforting hold, Hannah's sweet words of kindness and the smell of Emma's fine hair.

Curling herself into a ball against the window, she allowed the thoughts of her friends lull her to sleep, for they were safe and that was the only thing that she could be grateful for right now.

~*:*~

Draco brushed the ash from the black fabric that covered his shoulders as he huffed in annoyance at being called at such an inconvenient time. He stalked briskly through the halls of Riddle House by the light of his wand, ignoring the smell of filth that invaded his nostrils as he forced himself onwards to the room in which he knew the Dark Lord would be waiting.

He paused at the open doorway and watched the shadow of the Dark Lord on the wall as it flickered in the firelight. He could see his hand moving slightly to caress the snake that was wrapping itself around the leg of the chair. Draco readied himself, squaring his shoulders before starting into the room. The moment that the Dark Lord came into view, Draco crumbled to the floor in pain as the familiar pang of the Cruciatus curse ripped through his veins.

He clenched his fists tightly in order to ride out the pain the Cruciatus curse had ensnared him in, unrelenting in its torturous hold. He did not cry out, for his days of weakness were long in the past and he did not want to give the Dark Lord the satisfaction of his agony, but he did wonder what he had done to be punished this time. When the Dark Lord finally released him, he stood up gracefully and brushed the dust from the floor off his robes before bowing to his Lord.

"Let that serve as a reminder to you that I do not like to be kept waiting." His red eyes bore into Draco who didn't cower under the deformed man's intimidating glare, or the disapproving hisses of his snake. "Now sit." He ordered, while beckoning to the chair opposite to his own. Draco did as he was ordered and sat opposite the Dark Lord, watching him carefully to see if he could pick up any hints as to his current mood.

"Tell me Draco, are you incompetent?" The Dark Lord asked coolly, though Draco was no fool and could only imagine the extent of the rage that was brewing beneath the calm exterior.

Draco scoffed mentally at the audacity of the Dark Lord. Who was he to call anybody incompetent? There wasn't even anything left to him after Saint Potter and his conjoined orange growth destroyed his Horcruxes leaving a mortal shell of what he used to be. He was practically powerless and it was only his followers that kept him in the position that he was in today, but only Draco was smart enough to realise this.

When the Dark Lord knew that his time with absolute power was up, he strategically placed his most loyal and more powerful allies in the most powerful positions beside his own so he could still retain order without having to actually do the work himself. Ingenious.

"No My Lord. Has something led you to think otherwise?" He asked.

"It appears to me that you cannot control your own men, Draco. They are all inept and seem to be too much for you to handle." The Dark Lord observed. Draco opened his mouth to argue but the Dark Lord raised a ghostly hand in order to silence him before he spoke. "Adrian Pucey," he snarled the name. "One of your prized warriors, Draco. A man who you nominated to become a part of my inner circle has become a turncoat."

"My Lord, if you would allow me to explain-" Draco began calmly.

"Silence." The Dark Lord hissed. "What does this slip-up tell me about your judgement, Draco? Can I not trust anyone anymore, for you are –aside from Bellatrix- my closest advisor. Should I not trust your words?" He asked. "Do you wish to abuse and undermine the trust that I gave to you?"

"That was never my intention My Lord." Draco replied genuinely.

"Then what do you propose to do about him and the Mudbloods that he has been harbouring?" He questioned as he ran his hand over the scales of Nagini who was poised ready to coil herself around Draco's neck.

"The Mudbloods have been moved to one of our Relocation Camps and as for Pucey, I believe he was under the Imperius Curse My Lord." Draco lied convincingly, damning to hell the Mudblood who had put him in this position with her sinful bewitchment of him. She was more trouble than she was worth. "I have known Pucey for many years now My Lord, and I know of his hatred for _their_ kind. He had previously had no qualms with going about his orders until he had returned from a failed mission in which the wands of several of my men were stolen. This gave the attackers ample opportunity to curse them while managing to pass it off as one of our men." Draco conspired.

"You have put much thought into this Draco." The Dark Lord eyed Draco suspiciously. "Perhaps too much thought."

"I wish to get to the root of this as much as you do My lord. I wouldn't hesitate to give Pucey the same treatment as the Mudbloods that he was hiding if I had even a shred of doubt in where his loyalties lay. However, I believe that he was merely a victim of circumstance and would like to keep him on but not without consequences." Draco proposed. The Dark Lord leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands beneath his chin.

"You have my attention, Draco. Continue." He prompted with a wave of his hand.

"I would have Pucey moved down the ranks as punishment for his carelessness on a mission of importance and have him prove himself if he wishes to rise in your favour again. But only with your permission, My Lord." Draco winced internally, praying that he had appealed to the man sitting opposite him, for if he had not then it would be increasingly difficult to uphold his bargain with the Mudblood; something which he could not afford to lose.

The Dark Lord threw back his head with cruel laughter which Draco had to stop himself from cringing at. The sound went straight through him, causing his stomach to churn and his hair to stiffen. "I can see a younger version of myself reflected in you, young Draco. I like the way that you think," The Dark Lord observed. Draco certainly hoped he was wrong in his interpretations for he couldn't stand to be a replica of the lunatic who sat before him. "However, I still see the forgiveness that your worthless mother instilled in you. See to it that you work towards uprooting it." The Dark Lord said lightly. "As for Pucey, you deal with him as you see fit. It interests me to see how you respond to such matters. You may go."

~*:*~

It was into the early hours of the next morning that Draco arrived back at his luxurious townhouse in Central London after making sure that the tracks of the Mudbloods that he set free were covered while ensuring that Pucey was demoted. The silence of his house was suffocating as he arrived, the darkness that accompanied it was heavy and so he lit his wand and began to climb the stairs. His legs were quivering with impatience as he rushed through the house towards his bedroom where he knew that she lay.

He stopped outside the bedroom door, becoming more and more aware of the delights that waited for him as he dug in his pockets for the key that would give him access to her. He was desperate to finish off what he started with her earlier the previous day, for it had been far too long since he had indulged himself in such pleasures. No other witch appealed to him once the seeds of his obsession had been planted. There was only one in particular that he desired, but at the same time he hated her with such a passion for being everything that he wasn't allowed to have.

The sound of the door opening broke the deafening silence that had encompassed the house with its shrill whine as it protested on its hinges. He pocketed the key again and made his way into the room, his eager body taking quick strides in the direction of the bed where he had left her. When the light emanating from his wand illuminated the bed, he was shocked to find it empty. The sheets were still rumpled from where she had struggled, but the girl herself was absent. For a moment, cold panic spiked through his blood before the boiling of rage took over.

In a panic, he paced the room in search of her and let out a deep sigh of relief when the light of his wand touched upon her sleeping form, curled up against the window. Draco edged towards her with trepidation, enraptured by the beauty radiating from her sleeping form. The moonlight merged with the light from his wand spilled onto her still body, lighting her peaceful face in a way that made him stop breathing momentarily.

"Mudblood." He whispered harshly, in an attempt to rouse her, but it seemed as though she were in too deep a sleep to be aware of his calling. He placed his wand on top of one of the cabinets before running a cold finger down the side of her face where the skin was still sticky from her tears. He was mesmerized as to how such a filthy breed could be so enrapturing. He had seen many witches who were far more stunning than she and yet her simple mundane attractiveness was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It shouldn't be, and that was why he wanted to destroy her, to punish her so badly for having so much power over his emotions in this way.

The thought that he had this bewitching creature in his arms only hours ago began to excite him. She had been his to touch, to taste, to smell and feel. She was completely at his mercy and that was the way that he liked things. He sighed, realising that she wouldn't rouse tonight and so lifted her beneath her knees and back before carrying her over to the bed and drawing back the covers in which he then placed her.

He had never seen her face so serene since his Hogwarts days and he cursed himself mentally for not taking as much notice of her then. Had he been more aware of her back then, he was certain that he could've manipulated her feelings so that she would give him what he wanted willingly, but he wasn't sure if that was entirely what he wanted.

He made his way back out of his bedroom before locking the door behind him and wandering to the guest room opposite. He didn't know whether to be angry or pleased that she had fallen asleep; after all, sleep was a sign of trust was it not? Puzzled with himself, he flicked the light on and threw his mask into some remote corner of the guest bedroom. Did he want more than what he thought he wanted in the first place? He forgot to strip his robes off and climbed straight into bed, lying on top of the sheets with his confusion to keep him company.

In the dark and silence of the room his imagination took hold and he began to imagine what it would be like if she gave him what he wanted, willingly. When he kissed her, she wouldn't resist him as she had done earlier. When he touched her, she would not cringe and try to squirm away from his wandering hands but would shiver with anticipation and encourage him to touch her more. In his imagination, he watched as she pushed the robes from his shoulders before weaving her skilful fingers into his soft platinum hair. He would feel her moans vibrate through his mouth as her tongue seductively played with his own.

Before Draco could stop himself, his hands reached for the ache of desire that sent ecstatic pains racing through his body. He burrowed beneath his robe and into his trousers before reaching for his manhood which was already standing to attention with the intensity of his vivid fantasies. Back in his mind, he could see her small hands slowly running down his stomach, taunting him as she traced little circles just above the crucial area. He imagined her opening her creamy legs for him to reveal the temptation that lay between them, begging for him to do what he had longed to do.

He moved his hand in time to her movements in his fantasy, watching as she fought for air under his sinful ministrations, greedy for more that only he could give. He began to please himself with increasing fervour as she shouted out with her satisfaction, encouraging him to express his pleasure which he did, even louder than she for it was becoming harder to restrain them with each thrust becoming longer and deeper than the previous. With one final thrust, Draco reached his peak inside his imaginary Mudblood and felt the warm stickiness of his pleasure coating his hand and lower stomach.

He jolted from the fantasy and his raised head collapsed to the pillows behind him. Groaning, he waved his wand and extinguished the light in the room. Perhaps he wanted more than he dare hope to admit? He silenced that voice inside his head, reminding himself that she was filthy and didn't belong in his world but that wouldn't stop him from taking what he wanted, whether she gave it to him or not.

His lips twitched into a grin as he closed his eyes to slumber, for he would need his energy for the following day if he carried out the things that he had planned.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters._

* * *

_**Chapter III**_

Hermione stirred from her troubled sleep when the sounds of what seemed like knocking reverberated throughout the spacious bedroom. She uncurled herself from the tight ball that she had been wrapped in all night and stretched her cramping limbs. Brushing the hair from her face, she propped herself up slightly before realising that the surface on which she had woken was much softer than the one that she had fallen asleep on last night. Her head tilted slowly to check the other side of the bed, expecting to see him drinking her in with his greedy eyes but was greeted by the sight of the empty sheets.

She sighed with relief when she realised that he had not slept beside her last night, for she could only guess at the kinds of perverse deeds that someone like him could do to her whilst she was sleeping. She glanced at the window which she had fallen asleep beside the previous night and scolded herself mentally for allowing herself to sleep, for she knew that he had come here at some point during the night. She knew that he had moved her to the bed, although his motives still remained a mystery to her. He had even put her in the covers, but why? She was just relieved that he didn't wake her in the process because surely then he would continue with his sickening desire to touch her.

The sound of the door unlocking caused her to quiver and shrink back into the bed, feigning sleep again in case he had decided to return. She knew it was inevitable that he would eventually force himself on her, but she was going to try and put it off for as long as she could. Perhaps his interest in her would wane. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from the door while trying to steady her rapid breathing before the door squeaked open.

She could hear muffled footsteps on the floor as someone approached the bed, walking around to her side. She remained stone still as a long, bony finger prodded her shoulder uncertainly. She cracked an eye open to see an old house elf looking at her with disgust. The elf had droopy ears, a long nose and a pair of dull green eyes which completed an unfriendly looking face. She stayed for a moment, just looking at the elf's eyes, noticing how much they looked like Harry's. As the name passed through her mind, her throat clenched of its own accord and she rapidly spiralled into her grief. Oh how much she missed Harry, and Ron too for they were so much more than just her best friends. She had spent seven years by their side, through thick and thin as they endured a war and all the perils that came with it. They were a part of her and to be without them for so long was what hurt her the most. It was only her people that had kept her going, and now she didn't even have them.

The elf cleared his throat. "Pardon Miss, but I is ordered by Master Draco to be getting you. Even if it means I be taking you there without Miss' permission." The elf said in a polite voice with a cold uptight tone laced within his words.

"What is your name?" Hermione asked randomly, much to the elf's annoyance at stalling his order. He wasn't open to the idea of having to work for an unworthy Mudblood, even if it belonged to Master Draco.

"I is Blinky, Miss. Now please be getting up." He said haughtily.

"Where am I going?" She asked.

"Breakfast with Master Draco, Miss." The elf replied as he picked up her arm and tugged in order to encourage her to get out of bed. Hermione was indeed hungry, but if it meant sitting across the table from him, then she would rather starve herself. She sat up on the bed as the elf let go of her arm, but didn't make more of a move than that.

"Blinky, did…_he_…sleep elsewhere last night?" She asked hesitantly.

"Does Miss mean Master Draco? I does not know Miss, now please come or I is being punished by Master Draco." Hermione gasped at the statement, wishing that such cruelty did not exist amongst house elves as she had since Fourth Year when she had started up S.P.E.W. She smiled at the memory of the nights by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room with a basket of wool and two knitting needles as she had tirelessly knitted hats, scarves and socks for house elves. Had she been a free woman upon leaving Hogwarts, she would have carried it on as she went into the Ministry, hoping to acquire a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She had her whole life mapped out back then, but now it was just wishful thinking. After all, she wasn't entitled to a life because of her heritage.

"I is having to apparate us if Miss does not come to breakfast." The elf said sternly.

"I'm sorry. What time is it?" She asked, looking out of the window for any indication of the time. The skies were blue without a single cloud in sight. She could see the wind threading through the different coloured leaves that remained on the trees, ranging from red and orange to brown and yellow. She imagined that the air was crisp and cool, one that would bring a slight flush to your cheeks as you walked about in its path.

"Half past eight, Miss. But I is urging you to hurry. Master Draco is usually leaving the house before this and he being kept waiting for long. Now please, follow Blinky."

She did as she was told as the elf seemed to be getting more and more agitated with her, the longer she kept him waiting. She had many questions for the elf, although he seemed very reluctant to talk to her more than necessary. She knew it was because of her blood, for she had seen the same thing with Kreacher back in Grimmauld Place. She silently followed the elf as he led her out of the bedroom where she immediately began to drink in her surroundings. She wasn't in Malfoy Manor, she was thankful for that, for had she been then a wealth of snobbish portraits would have started yelling derogatory comments at her from the moment she stepped out of the bedroom. Besides, she didn't want to accidentally encounter one of Malfoy's parents for they were probably just as spiteful and cruel as he was.

She observed the interior of the house properly; as she had not been able to the time that she was brought here for she was too busy being dragged through the hallways by Malfoy. It wasn't the soulless grandeur of Malfoy Manor and didn't feel like an ancient museum of artefacts, but it was still cold and dark. Perhaps that could be down to her and the fear of the owner of the house which in turn had led to a fear of the house itself?

She silently noted the layout of the house, hoping that if she were ever allowed out of the room again that she might make some sort of escape, but in order to do that she would need to find an exit. Insofar, they seemed to be evading her. The elf suddenly came to a half before her, opening a door and ushering her inside where she found herself in an elaborate dining room which had a high, ceiling while the walls were painted a dark red; upon them were several portraits which were of Malfoy's ancestors if the platinum hair and cold aristocratic features were anything to go by. All of their eyes turned on her as she entered the room and she shrank slightly under their intimidating gazes before her eyes finally fell on Malfoy who was sitting at the dining table central to the room.

For each additional second that his steely eyes bore into her, she became more and more self-conscious. She watched as his eyes wandered down her body, fixing on the tears that he had made in her robe which revealed to him the smooth expanses of milky skin which lay beneath. She could see him clenching his fists and so she shakily reached for the flap of fabric that was hanging from her tattered robe, holding it in place to cover herself.

Blinky nudged her into the room, forcing her to start taking small and hesitant steps into the room. She could feel his predatory gaze and so hardened herself and lifted her head up high in defiance. She would not show him that she was scared, despite the unbearable fear that was racing through her veins. She felt as though she was marching into a courtroom where her ultimate fate would be decided, but she knew it had already been decided for her because he had made the decision. He was in complete control of her and these small acts of defiance were the only thing that she could do to try and convince herself that she still had some shreds of free will left.

She saw him nod slightly at the elf behind her who she turned to see leaving the room. Taking a deep and shaky breath, she turned back towards him staring at her calculatingly, as if he were either trying to figure her out or mentally undress her. Probably the latter.

He stood from his chair, causing her resolve to falter slightly before he started slowly making his way from the far end of the table. She thought momentarily that he was coming for her, that he would continue with his deprecating and humiliating assault in front of all of his ancestors to show them just how worthless she really was but almost audibly sighed with relief as he drew back her chair for her.

"Sit." He said harshly. It wasn't an invitation, it was a command. She looked from him to the chair and started taking indecisive steps towards him which became smaller and more forceful as she neared him. When she finally stood before the chair, she felt his cold hand on her shoulder before he forced her to sit down, hurting her behind in the process.

"No need to waste good manners on the Mudblood, son." Came the drawl of Lucius Malfoy from one of the portraits on the wall as Draco walked back to his seat at the opposite end of the table. Hermione almost wanted to laugh out loud hysterically. Good manners? For the entirety of her stay, Malfoy had treated her with anything _but_ good manners.

"Draco?" Barked a gruff voice from another portrait. "Is what your father speaks the truth? You have a Mudblood at the table? We taught you better than this boy!" Draco's grandfather Abraxas reprimanded him.

"Let her eat her food from the floor outside like the filth that she is." Snarled another voice.

"Are you trying to sully the Malfoy name boy?" Barked another.

"Oh sod off Uncle Brutus." Draco rolled his eyes and with a flick of his wand, he silenced the portraits. Their screeching was not pleasing to the ears so early in the morning and he would be better off without it.

Hermione sat rigidly the entire time, seemingly unaffected by their cruel barbs and taunts that were being flung her way. After 7 years of the same insults, she was somewhat immune to them but that's not to say that they didn't hurt from time to time. Draco watched her with fascination as she kept her eyes fixed on the black tablecloth, seemingly disinterested and –dare he say it– bored.

"I'm glad to see that you look well-rested." He said as the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk. She knew what he was getting at, trying to taunt her because she had slept in _his_ room, in _his_ bed.

"I'm glad to see that you aren't." She backfired, mentally pumping her fist in the air when she saw the smirk slip from his features. It was true, he did look rather worn with dark shading beneath his slightly bloodshot eyes.

"It seems that your arrogance has returned with your energy. By all means, do continue but I assure you I can take both away as easily as they came." He said with a hint of malice laced in his tone. Hermione shrunk in her chair at what he was suggesting, causing his grin to reappear. "It would serve you well to hold your tongue in the future and show some respect."

"Respect?!" She scoffed. "I could never, nor will I ever come to respect you. Do you forget what you have done to me?" She exploded.

"Believe me, sweet Mudblood. You _will_ respect me in time." He said dangerously low, his eyes boring into hers, delighting in the fact that he could see the fire raging behind them with her anger. Now all he had to do is elicit the same fire, but replace her anger with passion.

"I'll be damned before I ever willingly-" She began.

"May I remind you of what will happen if you decide to continue?" He raised an eyebrow in her direction, effectively silencing her briefly.

"What more can you do to me? You have taken my friends away from me, you have taken my freedom and everything I care about! Merlin knows what you've done with Adrian! Knowing you, you've probably already killed him out of pure spite and jealousy." She spat out each word and watched as his eyes darkened.

He stood up abruptly from his seat and slammed his fists down on the table. "I told you never to speak of him before me, else I will hunt him down and force you to kill him yourself under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Control yourself at once." He bellowed.

"Or what?" She challenged, shooting up from her own chair with such force that it tipped backwards and crashed to the floor. "What more can you take from me? You took my friends, my dignity, my _love_." She heavily emphasised the words and watched as his nostrils flared. He was just about done with her defiance for one morning and was ready to jump across the table and smack her before brutally reminding her of her place, but was stopped when the door reopened and in came two house elves.

Draco immediately sat down back in his chair while Hermione bent down to pick her chair back up before she too sat back at the table. Blinky came to her with a variety of platters and trays levitating behind him, as a house elf that Hermione wasn't familiar with walked towards Malfoy's end of the table. She noted that the house elf was probably female, as her facial features were much softer and curved than that of Blinky's. Her fingers were smaller and had less wrinkled and she generally seemed more petite.

Blinky lowered the different trays to the table before lifting the lids and handing Hermione her silverware so that she could serve herself, while the other house elf served Malfoy, placing food on his plate before stepping away and bowing her head obediently. Hermione hesitantly began to pile her plate with meagre amounts of food, when in reality she was ravenous and could probably eat the entire contents of each of the trays which were full of sausages, bacon, toast, beans, tomatoes and all manner of eggs. Hermione was in food heaven after being starved for so long, however she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her eat food that he had given to her.

She could see the irritated look on Malfoy's face as he watched her, before he turned to the house elves and with a rude wave of his hand, he dismissed them both. She heard him take a deep breath before turning to her again.

"To answer your previous questions, I shall remind you that had your fate been in the hands of someone else then you and your friends would be nothing more than a pile of ashes on the pyre while the luckier ones would have shared a similar fate to yours. I must say that you hold the better end of this bargain, for simply banishing such vermin is not nearly as fulfilling nor as permanent as I would like, however it is a compromise that we can both accept." He said calmly. "I will again remind you that your obedience was a part of our bargain was it not? And I believe that I have endured your childish defiance long enough while fulfilling your needs more than adequately. I have given you a bed in which to sleep and judging by your state, the best food that you have eaten in a long while. As for Pucey, I would have taken much delight in killing him indeed for aiding such parasites; however he has been saved from the Dark Lord's wrath for now and has been stationed in nearby Wiltshire all down to my doing. Now, I do not want to hear you asking of him again, do I make myself clear?"

She lowered her head in defeat. "You've taken everything from me, so tell me why I should stay with you." She whispered through a sob.

"Because my sweet little Mudblood, you know as well as I that I will tear apart the whole of England until I find you, burning each and every Mudblood man, woman and child that gets in my way. Then you will choose between the grave and my bed." He sneered maliciously.

"What kind of man are you?" She whispered inaudibly as he started to pick up his silverware and begin to eat.

"If you do not eat, I will have the house elves hold you down while I shove it down your throat. Eat." He commanded sternly. She didn't wait to be asked twice, fearful of what else he might do if he held her down. He watched as she hesitated for a moment before placing down her silverware. He was about to call for the house elves when he saw her clasp her hands together and bow her head.

"What are you doing?" He asked her cautiously, having never seen such a strange ritual before. She looked up irritated to see an expression of genuine curiosity on his face. Had he truly never seen this before? She raised an eyebrow.

"Praying." She muttered quietly.

It was something that Draco had heard briefly in Muggle Studies going back a few years now, something which Muggles used in order to communicate with their Gods. It was a strange concept to Draco and he wondered why someone with Magic would resort to such things. He quickly masked his curiosity which was undermining the powerful speech he had made only a few moments ago, for now she had the advantage. Instead, he switched back to his old, cruel self.

"To your God?" He guffawed.

"I see nothing funny about this. What do _you_ know about religion anyway?" She spat. "I'm sure you'll burn in Hell for the things you've done to me and my people."

"Ah, my sweet little Mudblood, such things are trivial. Your God turned his back on you by delivering you to my clutches." He sniggered. "In fact," He paused. "He turned his back on you the moment that he decided to give you to a pair of filthy Muggles."

"Don't you _dare_ say _anything_ about my God, nor my parents! They're the most loving parents I could ever have wanted for. They accepted me for what I was and they loved me anyway. Tell me Malfoy, if you had been born a Squib would your parents still love you?" She screamed at him.

"If your parents were so loving, then what made you strip them of their memories and send them away?" He jeered.

"I did what I had to protect them." She frowned.

"Well it obviously didn't work, did it?" He grinned evilly.

Hermione's head whizzed round and she looked at him fearfully. "What do you mean? Wait a minute, how did you know…"She trailed off as the realisation struck her. He watched as her hands began to shake and her eyes filled with unabashed tears.

He was momentarily taken aback. "You didn't know?"

Her lip was quivering as she shook her head to him. Her throat was clenched so painfully tight that any words that she tried to formulate would come out as incoherent squeaks.

"When?" She choked a pained whisper.

He looked at her with pity. How could she not have known? The raw grief in her eyes made him want to forget who he was, if only for a few moments and comfort her. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her while she expelled her tears. He would be the one to tell her everything would be okay, even though it probably wouldn't be.

He became angry at himself for thinking such thoughts again, and squashed them down inside his mind before putting up his cold exterior to try and hide the fact that she had gotten to him.

"Approaching two years now, I must say that the world is much better off with two less Muggles traipsing around and producing their dirty children." He said indifferently.

"You're a heartless monster!" She stood from the table and screamed at him. Her vision became distorted through the blurriness of the tears as the world spun about her. The colour and beauty of the world was quickly disappearing before her eyes as she allowed his words to wash over her. The arms that she had planted on the table before her had begun to shake violently before she allowed her sobs of grief to overcome her. She let out an anguished cry before her legs buckled and she fell to the floor. Not caring that she was showing him that she was vulnerable, or that she was squealing like a banshee. All that she could feel was a her sorrow tearing through her, ambushing her fragile heart and savagely tearing her parents from the special place where she held them, leaving behind a bleeding cavity that left her with the feeling of emptiness washing over her.

She had hoped that the day when she would have to say goodbye to her parents would be long in the future, when they were old and grey and surrounded by the grandchildren that Hermione would have given them. By this time Hermione would be on the verge of greying herself, with a loving family about her that would be able to pull her through the misery that came with their departure. She would have a husband that would act as her source of strength and balance as she put on a brave face for the children. She knew that they would have been wonderful grandparents, spoiling the children that she would have as well as Harry's children and Ron's children too, giving them the sugar-free Chupa Chups lollipops because too much sugar was bad for the teeth after all…

She hadn't known for almost two whole years which had made things so much harder to bear. She loathed herself for being the terrible daughter that she was, forgetting about them while taking their memories of her away. She briefly wondered how scared they must have been, being interrogated by strange people in black robes about a daughter that they didn't recall having, dying without remembering her. Hermione thought momentarily that perhaps her God really had turned his back on her once and for all.

It seemed as though those few moments on Malfoy's dining room floor dragged on for hours every single memory which featured her parents that had once been a source of comfort quickly turned unbearably painful for her to endure. She had lost not one, but two parents and now she had nothing more to live for. Just when she thought that he could take no more from her he had told her heartlessly, using it in order to bring her down. It seemed that he wasn't above kicking her when she was down, but every kick would hurt even more because she was sure that she couldn't get any lower than this. Her life truly wasn't worth living anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters._

_So guys, I realise it's been a while since I updated and I rushed this one a little bit so I may rewrite some parts of it and update again. But let me know what you think, for I don't know if I'm happy with it yet. _

_Also __**M-rated content in this chapter (violence & sex - lots of it)**__ - you have been warned. In fact, from here on out, it will be in most chapters so if you're a 12-year old looking for kicks - this will probably scar you for life. _

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_**Chapter IV**_

Hermione didn't even struggle as the two house elves restrained her from her hysteria as she had begun to claw at herself, repeatedly thumping her head and grinding her teeth – anything to distract her from the pain of her heart shattering. She had just cried as they had levitated her back to the same bedroom and locked the door behind her without a comforting word. She had immediately sprung back up and launched herself at the door – screaming at the top of her lungs in denial.

"MALFOY YOU LYING BASTARD! THEY'RE NOT DEAD, DO YOU HEAR ME? THEY'RE ALIVE AND I KNOW IT!" She would scream repeatedly while pounding on the door, demanding that Malfoy make a reappearance so that he could tell her that he was lying - consequences be damned. She didn't care if he beat her, if he raped her or if he even killed her, so long as he told her the truth. Her parents weren't dead and she knew it.

She would continue to shout and scream well after he left with only the house elves to listen to her frustrated shrieks and hopeless cries. It would be two hours until she had screamed her throat raw and bloody, reduced to quiet whimpers as she curled up into the foetal position on the shag rug in the centre of the room, not caring that the material made her face itch when sticky with her tears.

Once she had no more tears left to cry, she lay silently on the rug with only the noises of her stomach growling adamantly to fill the silence. She hadn't eaten at breakfast like he had told her to, for she had been far too preoccupied either arguing with him or falling into despair. She hadn't eaten for a few days now, but the physical pain of her hunger distracted her from her emotional turmoil.

Should she believe a word that he was saying? After all, he was a lying serpent. How could she know if he was trying to hurt her even more by delivering her that piece of news? The more that she thought about it, the more the reality set in. There must have been some degree of truth in his words for he had known what she had done to them and where she had sent them when not even Harry or Ron had known that.

But _dead? _How was it possible that she wasn't informed or aware of this? If what Malfoy had spoken was the truth then surely the Death Eaters would've used her parents as a way to lure her out of her hiding place in order to trap her into some deal or another exchanging her life for theirs. Why would they simply kill them without ensuring that she knew? There was no legitimate motive.

They say that when a loved one dies, you feel something – like an eerie sort of instinct that someone that you love is in trouble. It was heavily clichéd but it was something that Hermione was familiar with after seven rather eventful years of her life spent beside Harry and Ron. But this time, there was absolutely nothing at all. No supernatural sensation that indicated any sort of trouble suggesting that perhaps they weren't gone from her.

But she knew – oh she knew deep down that they were gone. Malfoy had spoken too much sense and for someone as pragmatic as she, it would do her no good to ignore the facts that were staring her bluntly in the face. Granted, she had no physical evidence as of yet, but in her gut she knew. The anger and loathing flooded her and she directed it towards herself. It was all _her_ fault.

_She_ hadn't protected them enough. _She_ hadn't thought to check up on them from time to time. _She_ was the one who had selfishly forgotten them, just as she had forgotten all those who had once meant something to her by becoming distracted with Adrian and her people. She buried her fists into her knotted curls and tugged hard to the extent where her scalp began to burn. She had failed them as a protector and she had failed them as a daughter and it disgusted her.

~*:*~

Draco was just about done with the continuous string of problems that his little Mudblood was causing him. Lying to the Dark Lord had been dangerous enough, for had he been discovered then the Dark Lord wouldn't hesitate to kill him. He had convinced him that the Mudbloods that had been hiding with her were safely tucked away in one of the Relocation Camps away from all of the major cities and civilisation. However when the Dark Lord found that those same Mudbloods – who by the way seemed to have quadrupled in numbers – were infesting London's streets once more, Draco would be eliminated.

The moment that he had arrived at the Ministry that morning he had been called to deal with yet another troublesome Mudblood. Thinking nothing of the disturbance, he followed the man sent to fetch him which took him to a more remote corner of Diagon Alley. Draco observed the scene before him, noting that the window to the apothecary had been smashed by a rock of some sorts. The shards of glass were sprinkled about the display on the inside of the window while others littered the pavement before him.

"What happened here?" Draco barked at the lesser man beside him who shrivelled slightly under Draco's harsh tone and intimidating glare.

"A robbery, sir." The man clarified. Draco could just about make out the slight trembling in his voice as he spoke. "There were reports that Mudbloods had been seen back in the alley, sir, but when we searched, there were no traces of them-"

"I don't care for your tedious drivel and obvious incompetence." Draco snapped, watching the man's Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he gulped. "What I do care to know is whether or not the culprits were caught."

Little beads of perspiration were evident on the man's upper lip now as he fought to keep a moderate amount of composure before such an important and influential Death Eater. "Indeed, sir. My supervisor sent me to fetch you in order to determine the fate of these Mudbloods."

"Is your supervisor stupid? I have far bigger concerns than a rebellious Mudblood who failed at robbery." Draco snarled in annoyance before turning to exit the alley with his black cloak swirling through the fog behind him.

"Of course Sir, however he thought that these particular Mudbloods would be of interest to you." The man spoke carefully as Draco whirled back around and marched back to the man with intent. He grabbed the shorter man by his collar and lifted him a few centimetres from the floor.

"Who else knows of this?" He spoke harshly.

"N-n-no one, Sir." The man stuttered.

"Good, and that is the way it shall remain else I will personally see to it that you are _silenced_.Now go." He dropped the man who quickly scurried off back up the alley in fear of his life. Draco almost wanted to laugh out loud at the petrified look on his face, and if he hadn't known any better, he could've been sure that the man had soiled himself. However, now was not the time for laughter.

"Flint." Draco hissed into the shadows. "You should know better than to involve the small fry in my affairs." There was a deep laugh that echoed from the shadows as Marcus Flint stepped into the light with an amused look on his face. Marcus was one of the few that knew that Draco had released a select few from the dungeons that night, although he didn't know the full details of the bargain he made with his little Mudblood.

"Perhaps not, although I for one can't deny how amusing the new boy was." A smile tugged at the corner of Flint's lips as he made for Draco.

"Yes well, enough chit-chat. What is it about these Mudbloods that you were adamant would interest me so?" Draco inquired. Flint merely smirked again before crooking his finger in a beckoning fashion as he backed away into the shadows again. Draco followed him through a complex network of alleyways and small alcoves until he heard the muffled shouts of a man. As he drew closer, the shouts became louder until the source of the noise came into view.

_Colin Creevey._

One of those who he had freed in exchange for his Mudblood. It seems that they were masochists; for one day of freedom seemed to be too much and they were ever gluttonous for the punishment they would receive upon being caught again. Creevey was bound and gagged while lying in the foetal position on the uneven cobblestone floor of what Draco assumed was some unused corner of Knockturn Alley.

At first, he only saw red. He had made such an effort to remove Creevey and the rest of his posse out of London in exchange for his Mudblood. He had lied to the Dark Lord and forged all the necessary documents that would ensure that his tracks were covered, only to find that the twits would sneak back into the city little more than a day later.

"Well well well. What have we here?" Draco chimed. "A thief?" Colin's eyes widened and he began to wriggle about aimlessly on the floor. "Oh forgive me, a _Mudblood_ thief."

" 'Cept he didn't even get into the shop. It seems we caught you again old boy, 'cept this time, I don't think you'll be so lucky." Flint taunted him as he began to thrash with increasing determination.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the other figure who sat silently only a few metres from Colin. It was Hannah Abbott, Draco was sure of that much. Another of Creevey's accomplices, another whom he had rescued. "Hannah Abbott. A whore no doubt." Draco peered into her eyes as she tilted away from him.

Flint sniggered from behind him. "A feisty one at that. Saw one o' the boys goin' for a bit o' business if you catch my drift," Flint winked at Draco a few times to emphasise his point. "Only then did we find out that the bitch was his diversion. Skulking about like a common ol' prostitute she was."

Draco sighed and rubbed his temples. He wasn't a very forgiving person, that was his nature and so he wasn't going to let them off scot free, _especially_ after begrudgingly aiding them in their escape.

"It seems the odds are against you here. Thievery and prostitution, two crimes which are punishable by death." Draco said unfeelingly, despite the tears pouring out of Hannah's eyes and the look of shock on Colin's face.

"Only for you Mudbloods though." Marcus added with a chuckle, his face fell as the realisation dawned upon him. "But Boss, what about your deal?" He asked, puzzled.

"The deal be damned, they entered this city of their own free will and committed the crimes fully aware of the consequences. We need to make an example of them, else be burdened with more and more of them until the Dark Lord finally realises what's going on." Draco looked back at the two terrified and innocent faces. Two pairs of eyes looked pleadingly at him, beseeching him to change his verdict. His upper lip curled with disgust and he waved his hand as though to rid himself of them.

"Take them away, Flint."

~*:*~

It was dark when Draco arrived back home and he was feeling extremely agitated after a trying day at work. He slammed the front door loudly to alert _her_ of his presence. He smirked slightly as he imagined her terror for what was about to come. He knew it. She knew it. He was done with waiting and was going to claim what was rightfully his whether she gave it up willingly or not.

His two house elves appeared before him and dutifully bowed lowly. Draco shrugged off his cloak and handed it to Pinky to have the grime of Knockturn Alley washed from it before tomorrow.

"Can Blinky fetch anything for Master Draco?" The elf asked, trying to avoid eye contact with his Master upon sensing his foul mood, for he did not want the Master to release his frustrations on himself and Pinky like he was accustomed to doing from time to time. Blinky supposed that was what the Mudblood was for now.

Draco ignored the elf's question and started for the stairs with intent. About halfway up, he paused and pursed his lips in thought before backing down a few steps and turning towards the two elves that stood waiting to be dismissed.

"Has she behaved herself?" He asked. The elves quickly exchanges an unsure glance with one another.

"Yes, Master." Pinky quickly replied before Blinky could interject. Draco looked intensely at the little elf, sensing that he might be hiding something from him. The elf then squared his little shoulders and looked Draco in the eye.

"Blinky?" Draco turned his question to him.

"The Mudblood Miss has not caused Blinky trouble." He told his Master.

"Did you feed her?"

"Filthy Mudblood does not deserve the food that Master Draco be giving-" The elf finally boiled over, deeply ashamed of his servitude to a Mudblood like her.

"Pinky been feeding Miss as Master Draco ordered." Pinky spoke up, noting the dark look on her Master's face.

"Good. You are dismissed." He said quickly before he had a chance to change his mind. Blinky apparated away without a second thought while Pinky lingered in the front hallway, wondering what her Master was going to do to the poor little Miss and what it was that she had done to deserve such a cruel punishment. She heard noises upstairs and decided to apparate back to the kitchens so that she was well out of hearing distance. Ignorance was bliss after all.

~*:*~

Hermione was lounging in her usual spot by the window, with her head tilted back against the glass as she quietly listened to the sound of her own breathing while a montage of memories featuring her childhood played behind her closed eyelids. She heard the rattling of the key in the lock which startled her from her trance for she knew who was coming for her. Blinky had brought her food during the day, but he had apparated in. There was only one person who used the door.

She blindly reached out for the wall in order to steady herself as she stood, as ready as she would ever be for whatever torture he would inflict upon her on this night. The door swung open and Malfoy strolled in, slamming the door behind him while scanning the room for her. She felt the moment when his eyes settled on her, standing flat against the wall in the dark before he rushed towards her with purpose in each step. She could feel his anger reverberating throughout the room as he drew closer and closer all the while she was shrinking more and more into herself, wishing that she could just fall through the wall that she was pressed so tightly against.

She knew he was impatient and that he would quickly tire of waiting to claim his prize, she wasn't naïve enough to think she would escape without even a blemish upon her rosy skin. She had been fearfully counting down the seconds until the moment arrived and unfortunately for her, it was finally here. He grabbed her and forcefully shoved his tongue into her mouth, greedily trying to taste every inch of her and drawing every drop of moisture from her mouth while replacing it with his own.

She tried to resist, but knew that she was no match compared to him who towered 6"1 over her small 5"5. She had enough courage to try and take action, doing anything in her power to try to stop him in his advances but without her wand, she was powerless. He suddenly withdrew from her mouth and curled his fingers around the end of her hair, tugging on it harshly to pull her head back.

She gasped with the sudden pain as he raised his other hand to trace it down the side of her face, over the curve of her cheeks and then slowly down the straining veins that were slightly visible on her pale neck. He looked down at her through heavy lidded eyes with an expression of irritation mixed with lust. She struggled slightly, trying to release his hold on her hair so she could hold her head upright again. He however, foresaw her struggle and forced her to spin by dragging her hair before crushing her to him, so that her back was flat against his chest.

His grip on her hair was painfully tight and she gritted her teeth with the pain; her scalp already sore from her frustrated pulling from earlier that day. His free hand curled around her neck, his fingertips applying just enough pressure so that he could feel the blood straining past his grip with each heartbeat.

"You're causing me too much trouble." He sighed before burying his nose into the juncture of her neck, forcing her to remain still with his grip on her hair and neck. He slowly began to kiss and lick his way up her neck while she shuddered with obvious repulsion. "I'd have saved myself so much trouble had I simply thrown them all on the fire." He told her before lifting his head from her neck and sampling her lips again.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, confused.

"One of your kind tried to rob the apothecary in Diagon Alley today, it was thanks to my soldiers that he didn't succeed." He smirked into her lips once more while she tried to force her head as far away from his that it would go. "I'm hoping that my torturers will help him see the wrongness of his actions."

"You monster." She spat.

"The only monster here is you, because of that filthy blood running through your veins. You and your kind, all filthy things that ought to be extinguished from this world."

"Do the world a favour then. Kill me." She challenged him.

"Oh my sweet little Mudblood, that would be far too simple now would it not?" Silence fell upon them for a brief moment until he broke it again. "Another Mudblood today, convicted of the crime of prostitution."

"Crime? I see no crime when it is the only way that we can get by!" She shouted.

"That my dear is why it is a crime. Tomorrow, she will burn alongside the thief." He grinned at her gasp of horror before spinning her around and forcing his mouth on her again, but this time with more determination. His hands ran all over her body, despite her attempts to block them which he quickly tired of. He pulled out his wand and with a quick _Incarcerous_, he bound her hands together, effectively stopping her further protests.

"Have you no conscience?" She whimpered feeling his hands on her inner thighs, pushing her robe up as he made his way up her legs while she was helpless to stop him. He pushed her against the wall and forced her legs apart, placing his hand in the gap between them.

"My only regret is that I didn't catch more of them." He snarled, feeling her legs pressing together, trapping his hand while she continued to writhe, thrashing out in all directions in the hope that he would somehow lose his hold on her. He quickly became irritated and threw her onto the bed with force and before she had time to move herself, he was on top of her again, ripping her robe down the middle to expose her body to him.

As she lay beneath him, she could feel the same rigidness pressed against her inner thigh as he tore the remains of the fabric from her skin, leaving her bare to the cool night air and to his gluttonous gaze.

He crawled up the bed and stood on his knees; one on either side of her torso, effectively trapping her to the bed as she had no way that she could dislodge him. All she could do was helplessly watch as he stripped himself of his Death Eater robe leaving him in a pair of black trousers which he then proceeded to unbuckle with haste.

The pathetic tears were pouring from her eyes as she pleaded for him to stop. She didn't want him to do this to her. She wasn't ready. But none of that mattered to him, because the ache of his need was dictating his every movement. He was so unbelievably close this time and he was sure that there would be no interruptions of any sort, leaving him the whole night to do as he wished to his little Mudblood.

When he was freed from the constraints of his trousers, he moved back down the bed and forced her legs apart, baring to him her most secret place which he yearned to fill. He eyed it lustfully for only a few seconds before another dull ache pulsed from his need; a need which this time was going to be taken care of.

She felt the tip of him pressing at her entrance and knew that it was too late now, he wasn't going to stop. Her lips quivered and she lifted her head while more tears spilled out onto her cheeks.

"YOU'RE GOING TO BURN IN HELL FOR THIS!" She shouted before crying pitifully again, trying to wriggle about in order to dislodge his positioning at her entrance.

"Of course my sweet little Mudblood, but not before I make you burn with me." He promised before surging forward. She had tightened herself up as much as she could in order to stop him from getting further and further into her but her resistance did little to deter him. In fact, it made it hurt incredibly more for her; she had already felt the tell-tale tear of flesh and knew that her innocence had been destroyed.

He couldn't care less for her discomfort, for he was in pure ecstasy. He took a deep gulp of air to try and steady his shaking body before he began to slowly move himself in and out of her; moaning all the while with the sensations she was providing. He wasn't a virgin and had experienced the pleasures of the flesh more times than he could count, but this one was a far greater experience than any of the others.

Never before had he dared to taste the forbidden fruit. Mudbloods were dirty, filthy animals which weren't even fit to kiss the ground that he walked on and yet here he was losing all sense as he thrust himself deeper and deeper into her unwelcoming channel, uncaring of her blood status and focusing only on the pleasure that she was providing.

She was screaming beneath him, for the pain was indescribable. It was like a sharp stabbing pain, repeatedly trying to claw its way further and further inside of her. Ripping and tearing her with the force of his assault on her unprepared body. His eyes narrowed in anger and he raised a hand to strike her across the face with such a force that she could feel her neck clicking. The same hand was then pressed tightly across her mouth as he continued with his assault while she screamed out with her pain; her warm tears dripping down her cheeks and onto his cold hands.

He pushed harder and harder into her, forgetting all humane feelings of sympathy, guilt and regret for what he was doing to her while she endured the feel of his sweaty skin slipping against hers, his breathy moans fanning across her skin and the wetness of his tongue as he tried to gain entrance into her mouth. As he drew closer to his release, his rhythm became uneven as he tried to get as deep into her as he possibly could with forceful and violent thrusts. As the pleasure built, he became more and more oblivious to her pained cries and struggles, only caring to strive towards his ultimate goal.

He could feel it building as he became more aware of all the sensations around him. His skin slipping against hers. The feel of her smooth flesh beneath his calloused hands. The feel of her thighs embracing his skin. The tightness of her body that squeezed against every inch of him, driving him to his release. As he laboured on, his breathing became hard and erratic, his legs were gradually going weaker and so with the little remaining energy that he had left, he began to thrust more violently and quickly than he ever had before, receiving as much pleasure as the pain he was causing her.

With a final thrust, his head fell back and he let out a strangled moan as pure ecstasy exploded in every nerve of his body before coming the hardest he had ever come in his entire life. So much so, that he had to wait just a little bit longer this time for his body to stop spurting his seed into her and for his limbs to stop shaking.

When he came back to his senses, he harshly pulled himself out of her, eliciting a pained cry before he rolled onto the empty side of the bed and extinguished the lights in the room, too guilty to even look at her again.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:**__I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters._

_Hey guys, I'm terrible for not updating - I know! But I've been so busy with it being the holidays and all. Then I lacked the motivation to write for a few days after I watched the new Hobbit movie because have you seen Orlando Bloom in that film? I saw him with those blue contacts and almost combusted in the cinema *fans self*. Anyway, enough of my completely pointless drivel and onto the usual thanks to all of my readers/followers and most especially my reviewers, all who have remained faithful to my story while I've been dossing about like a naughty writer. Think of this as a belated Christmas present._

_For all my loyal readers - I must tell you before I burst - that I'm in the process of writing another fic! I know, I'm excited too. Of course, I'll finish this one before I really focus on my new one but rest assured that it shan't be as dark as this one. _

_Also, Happy New Year for tomorrow y'all._

* * *

**_Chapter V_**

She lay stoically until she heard his breathing slow and quieten so that she was sure that he was sleeping. Only then did she dare to move. She ever so slowly shifted herself across the bed away from him, taking it a few centimetres at a time. She was utterly repulsed and horrified by the atrocity that he had committed against her and she wanted nothing more than to be away from him. In fact, she could probably say that she would much prefer to be dead than lying in his bed.

She scooted right to the edge of the bed so that she was only an inch or so away from falling off, keeping her eyes on him all the while as she pulled her knees up to her chest to hide her blatant nakedness from the darkness of the room. She laid her head atop her knees so that her matted curls fell in a curtain around her face, shielding him from her view while her chin trembled with the tears of shame that she had tried to restrain. The tears came quickly, streaming from her eyes continuously as she felt them rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto her knees before watching them trickle down her legs.

This was how she sat for the entirety of the night, not daring to move a muscle in case she woke him prematurely, prompting him to take her again. The blood shed by her innocence became crusty and dry on her inner thighs and his pristine white bed sheets in which she took great joy. It gave her some form of sick satisfaction to know that she was spilling her so-called 'filthy' blood all over his bed. Although that small ounce of pleasure did nothing to overcome her overwhelming grief and sorrow.

She would not let herself sleep that night, despite how tired she was as a result of the fight that she had put up against him. Her sore muscles cried out for some relief in the form of rest and many times throughout the night she felt her eyelids drooping and almost succumbed to the inviting temptation that sleep offered her. Every time she would shake herself awake, reminding herself that she dare not sleep in his presence, for God only knew what dastardly acts he would perform on her while she was unconscious.

Eventually, her tears ran dry and so she could only sit in the suffocating darkness with her thoughts to keep her company while her tears dried on her face. The sound of his breathing beside her became like a sort of metronome that offended her ears. It was the same breathing that she could hear in her ears and feel on her skin as he violated her. She wanted so desperately to stop the noise, for it dragged back her fresh memories of horror that played through her head with a montage of images, sounds and feelings that she wished to forget.

She turned her head so that she was facing the window. It was still barely light outside and she could see the branches of the tree in the garden as they swayed in the wind. Occasionally, she would see the silhouette of a leaf as it was torn from its branch by the unforgiving wind, effectively cutting off its lifeline. A sinister flicker of a thought passed through her mind briefly and she slowly turned back to her unwillingly taken bedfellow.

She could stop the breathing that haunted her if she so wished. He had put himself in a position of vulnerability by allowing himself to fall asleep beside her, trusting that she wouldn't do anything to him while he slept. Keeping her eyes fixed on his sleeping form, she reached behind her for the pillow and swiftly pulled it around to her chest.

She could kill him and run away for her freedom. Granted, she would never be safe within the country again for the Death Eaters would hunt her tirelessly for murdering one of their peers, but was it worth it? It ultimately came down to what she treasured more, her morals or her freedom.

It took her only a few moments to decide. She uncurled herself from the tight ball that she had sat in for the majority of the night while her fingers tightened around the pillow that she was holding. She stood up on her knees slowly, as so to make less movement in the mattress as possible which could wake him. She shuffled closer and closer to him before swinging her leg over to the other side of his torso, effectively straddling him.

It felt strange and wrong for her to willingly put herself in such an intimate position with him considering recent events, but she knew it had to be done. It was the optimum position to minimise his movement should he wake during her assault and try to fight back. She stared down at him through the darkness, feeling his chest brush against her thighs every time he inhaled. Her eyes widened at the sound of his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. The sound became the driving force that powered her evil intent. She wanted the sound to subside. She couldn't listen to it anymore, else it rehash the memories of earlier that night.

She lowered the pillow so that it hovered above his head, angling it slightly so that she could effectively block off all airways. Her arms jerked as she made the final movement to lower the pillow but her blood froze when she heard his daunting voice rip through the air.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my sweet little Mudblood. Be a good girl now before I decide to take advantage of our current position." He spoke dangerously low, while his eyelids didn't as much as flutter to signify his waking.

Hermione exhaled shakily as her limbs began to tremble. "H-how?" She whispered, more so to herself than to him. He sat up in a flash and clamped his arm tightly around her waist, preventing her from moving while using his free hand to remove the pillow from her grasp.

"I admire your efforts my sweet, but you really should have contemplated the consequences of your foolish actions. I was going to take it easy on you today but I feel with this display I've had a sudden change of heart." He grinned evilly as her lower lip trembled despite her attempts to rein in her emotions. He reached down for the bed sheet that separated them both and yanked it harshly from beneath her perch on his lap before tossing it to the floor. With a glance over his shoulder, he noticed a peculiar stain on the side which she had slept.

"Well this is just precious." He guffawed. "The Mudblood saved herself for me." The though of being the only man to know her carnally immediately piqued his desire which he knew she could feel stirring beneath her. Tears of humiliation filled her eyes and she bowed her head in shame with nothing more to possibly say to him at this moment.

She had always valued her virginity highly and wasn't a girl who would give it away as easily as she had seen others do. Her mother had always told her that such a thing was a precious gift which should only be reserved for someone dear to her heart and so she had led a pure existence while those around her gave in to their innermost desires. Besides, she never really had time to look for her 'special someone'. Well, that was until Adrian came along. She was sure that he would be the man to who she would give her precious gift, but that had been changed when it had been robbed from her by the man who now held her to him while placing libidinous kisses to her neck which she tried desperately to evade.

He felt guilty for a fleeting moment as he recalled how rough and demanding he had been with her the previous night, while being unable to comprehend how he had not noticed the breaking of her innocence. Again, he became angry at himself for the empathetic feelings he held for her, knowing that she had known the penalties that would befall her when she agreed to his bargain. He sneered mentally. Of all people, she would be the righteous, virginal Mudblood who offered herself up to the big bad Death Eater like a sacrificial lamb for slaughter. It sickened him.

"Fear not my sweet little Mudblood, for they say it only hurts in the beginning. Who knows, eventually you might find our little encounters quite stimulating." Her smirked while running his hand down her bare torso, trying to ignore how she shivered with revulsion.

"I think I'd gain as much pleasure from being violated by you as I would slitting my own throat." She fired back, shying away from his touch.

"Would you prefer that I were your precious Adrian instead?" He taunted mockingly.

"I'm sure that Adrian could take me to heights that you can only dream of reaching. You get your kicks by forcing yourself on women. And not just any women, but so-called _dirty_ and _impure_ women." She said haughtily. He curled his fingers around her neck and squeezed hard before he heard her breathing hitch. She brought her hands up instinctively and used her nails to try and scratch his hands away from her neck in order to free her airways, but his grip was too strong.

"I wouldn't taunt if I were you my sweet, you know not where it will lead." He muttered threateningly while slowly tightening his hold around her throat. The veins slowly became more prominent around her neck and forehead as her skin began to turn red. He was enraptured as he watched her struggling under his ministrations, watching her plump and chapped lips move in vain as she tried to speak. He tore his gaze away from her momentarily as he looked to the window behind her struggling form, noticing that the sun was up and dawn had broken.

"Think yourself lucky that early matters call for my attention so that I cannot show you just how wrong you were with your previous statement." He spat as he violently released his hold from her neck which sent her tumbling from the bed and landing on the floor with a crash. The heavy sounds of her deep breathing followed alongside a fit of coughing as she struggled to catch her breath. She lay on her floor and panted desperately before cocking her head in his direction and narrowing her eyes as her petite hand circled her neck and rubbed it soothingly.

"Don't look so disappointed, I'm sure I can make it up to you when I return." He said with a smirk at her obvious repulsion at the thought.

"Then I hope you never return at all." She spat, releasing her neck and crawling over to where the bed sheet lay discarded on the floor, tainted with her blood before wrapping it firmly around herself to hide from his gaze.

"Still the bold little Mudblood, aren't we? What does the outside world hold for you now, Mudblood? Even when I've had my fill of you, no matter where you go and no matter what you do, nobody will ever touch you again knowing that you've come from my bed. You will be branded as a whore by your people and therefore an outcast." He grasped her chin and uttered harshly. "I don't think you quite understand, this is the best you will get out of your miserable existence"

She wrenched herself from his grip. "Oh no? What about you? Surely one would think that you would suffer worse from the repercussions of what you have done. After all, who could ever look up to a man who fucked a woman who to him and his kind were the dirtiest breed of people ever to walk the earth? What would the world hold for you then Draco Malfoy?" She challenged.

He seemed stunned into silence for a moment. "The Dark Lord trusts me implicitly, and nobody would dare question the Dark Lord's authority." He spoke sombrely, standing up from the bed and reaching for the clothes that were haphazardly thrown on the floor as a result of the previous night's hastiness. As he collected his belongings, he noted that he had completely torn her Muggle-like robe to shreds. It probably couldn't even be salvaged by the work of a potent darning charm. Glancing at the torn shreds of fabric, he felt a fleeting pang of guilt once more, for it only spoke of his animalistic behaviour.

Why was it that he relinquished complete control of his actions, emotions and perhaps even his sanity when it came to her?

"The house elves will be by once I have left to...clean up..." He remarked rather awkwardly for a moment while glancing around the dishevelled room. She didn't even spare him a second glance as she remained on the floor with her back to him, resuming the position that she had sat in all night; her knees tucked into her chest with her chin resting atop them. She heard the rustling of his clothes as he dressed followed by the sound of him closing and locking the door behind him as he left. She didn't move a muscle from that moment, as the tears fell unrestrained once more and she whispered quietly to herself, wishing for her mother.

~*:*~

True to his word, Hannah Abbott and Colin Creevey were set to burn early this morning at the Mudblood Relocation Camp they were currently being held in. It always seemed fitting to have such events take place in the morning so that he could quickly rid his conscience of the plaguing thoughts concerning the convicted. Although it hadn't been a specific term in his deal with his Mudblood, he couldn't help but feel restless as some of his men prepared the pyre on which her friends would burn.

In all honesty, he hated that the Dark Lord used burnings as his preferred method of execution. If he had his way, it would be a simple, quick and painless _Avada Kedavra_ to send them off. It took no preparation and much less clean up. Instead he had to stand and watch them suffer as the flames licked at their flesh as they continually screamed out in agony. The smell wasn't too pleasant either and when there were only a few people to bear witness to the execution, he would take a scented handkerchief from his pocket and press it to his nose.

Today however, he knew he could not for this particular execution was scheduled in order to make an example of the perpetrators to all of the other Mudbloods who were currently being held within the city by forcing them to watch them burn. Of course, he didn't burn _all_ of the Mudbloods that he caught, but these particular Mudbloods harboured a secret that could taint him should it get out. He had helped them, albeit for his own personal gain which - if discovered - could lead to his death.

The captive Mudbloods being held in the camp were all stood below the scaffold where the wood was being set for the fire. Some stared angrily at Draco who was overseeing the construction of the pyre up on the scaffold while silently plotting in their head for some kind of revolt. There were others who looked around nervously at the guards who patrolled the square where they were all forced to stand as they held their wands ready should any disturbances occur. All heads turned when a door opened and a guard stepped out, followed by the pitiful forms of the convicted.

They had been tortured throughout the night and deprived of their basic needs since their capture earlier the previous day but already looked as though they had been in captivity for weeks, bordering on months. He could see how they squinted and held their arms up to shield their eyes as the two of them hobbled out of the darkness and into the unforgiving light of the morning sun. Hannah's long blonde hair was dirty and there were clumps of dried, flaky blood lodged in her tresses. She could barely walk as a result of her torture although she tried as hard as she possibly could to muster up as much dignity as possible in order to walk without appearing as though she were in pain.

She only managed a few steps before the scaffold came into view. Her arms began to shake violently as the full extent of her torture crashed upon her, sending her toppling gracelessly to the ground. She began to sob loudly as she looked upon her fate while fear spiked through her every cell. One of the guards escorting them nudged her back harshly with his boot which made her cry out in pain as she scrambled in vain to try to stand up again. Colin crouched down next to her, despite his own agony and held both of her hands while trying to bring her to her feet.

All seemed to be going well as she stood firmly on her two feet, supported by Colin's frame. The crowd of Muggle-Borns watched with their hearts heavy with sorrow and pity as Hannah's knees buckled beneath her and she crumpled to the ground again.

"Walk you filthy bitch." One of the guards demanded.

"I can't." She whispered pitifully, lowering her head to the ground. Both of her ankles had been dislocated at the hands of her torturers making walking an impossible feat.

The guards sneered behind her as one of them reached for her hair, determined to drag her to the scaffold if she could not walk, but he was interrupted as Colin weakly scooped Hannah into his arms, gritting his teeth as his muscles cried out in protest to the additional weight. With all of the determination his broken Gryffindor soul could muster, he limped forward slowly.

"Put her down you-" started one of the guards who grabbed Colin's broken shoulder harshly, yanking him around in order to snatch the girl from his arms.

"No. Leave him to carry her if he so wishes, but if he falls then she can watch him burn first." Draco smirked evilly, noting the look of horror in Hannah's eyes as she turned to Colin. There were cries of protest from the crowd which were quickly silenced by the threats of the guards around them.

Colin looked wearily at the path that would lead him to his death. It only stretched a few metres but for someone who had been out through hours and hours of torture on end, it seemed to be a marathon. He looked at the tears streaming down Hannah's face, her fear was evident and although he would rather be the first to die, he knew she wouldn't be able to withstand watching him burn before facing her fate alone.

He limped slowly before the front of the scaffold, wincing with the pain that each step caused him, but no pain was enough to cause his determination to falter. He would have this small victory before he was sent to the grave, for surely his little brother would hear of his demise and even though he trembled and screamed on the inside, he would like to die a brave man if only to appease his brother.

The steps up to the scaffold proved an even harder challenge for Colin's struggling body. There were only three of them which eased his mind only a little, for each step would take him one step closer to his small victory, but also one step closer to his doom. Each step proved more difficult than the last with the mounting agony building inside his muscles. Just as he was about to step up onto the scaffold, he felt Hannah slipping from his grip and quickly readjusted her in his arms, causing him to lose his balance slightly as he tripped over the remaining step. He toppled slightly as he pain shot up from his legs at the forced steps he took to try and balance himself, so much so that he squeezed a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Colin, you must put me down. This is cruelty what you do to yourself for my sake. Put me down, I will walk." She whispered her plea to him but he silenced her with a shake of his head and hobbled the remaining steps towards the pyre where he turned and looked Draco in the eyes defiantly.

Guards swarmed them immediately, yanking Hannah from Colin's grip and dragging her unceremoniously towards the pyre. They tied her to the stake with her hands bound behind the wood as she cried to herself pitifully at her pain and her fear. Colin didn't protest as they treated him in the same inconsiderate manner, tying him to the opposite side of the stake to Hannah so he could not even see her to comfort her as they died together.

Draco walked across the scaffold with malice gleaming in his silver orbs as he approached them. Colin greeted him with a hateful glare which he ignored as he positioned himself to face the crowd.

"We come here today to witness the retribution of these two criminals convicted of the crimes of thievery and prostitution." He paused between announcing each charge as the guards booed at the two of them. "Will you repent?" He turned to them once more.

"I have done nothing wrong." Hannah squeaked as she pleadingly looked into the eyes of those around her, hoping to sway their verdict. "These men are lying!" She shouted out to the crowd who began to rally in protest.

"In fact," Colin started which caused the crowd to fall silent as all eyes turned on him. "I am sorry." He admitted.

"You see? He admits it." Shouted one of the guards to the rest of the crowd who cowered beneath the wand that was pointed in their direction.

"I'm sorry that you're such a sick, twisted little man Malfoy. I'm sorry that people like me have to suffer under you and your tyrannical people. I'm sorry that I let Hannah come with me in my attempt to steal the herbs necessary to cure my brother's ailments. But I'm not sorry for standing up to you and I'm certainly not sorry for being born to a family who wasn't magical for it is nothing to be ashamed of." Colin spoke calmly.

Draco stared long and hard at the man and without looking away he raised his hand and made a beckoning motion. "Pucey, get over here." He ordered. Colin and Hannah both looked to the man as he walked casually across the scaffold, looking them both confidently in the eye without even a sliver of concern for their well being.

Adrian turned and pointed his wand at the sticks at their feet. "Incendio." He conjured the fire which burst from the tip of his wand and engulfed the sticks at their feet. The last thing he would ever remember about them being the look of betrayal prominent in their glistening eyes as the fire devoured its way through the wood in order to get to their feet. Adrian tucked his wand into his robes and swiftly made an exit so he did not have to bear witness to their savage demise while the others all stood quietly in the square, forced to watch.

Draco smirked at the man's unease as he walked away hastily. It was the least he could do after his Mudblood had pined for him so, wishing that Pucey had been the one fucking her instead of him. It seemed fitting to punish him as he would later punish her. He watched as Colin tried to wriggle himself loose and was about to draw out his wand when instead the other man twisted himself around to the other side of the stake so that he stood side by side with his female counterpart who eyed the flames that were mere inches from her feet with fear. Through his bounds, he stretched his fingers until he reached her hand and hooked one of his fingers tightly in one of hers before kissing her cheek as some form of reassurance. They were in this together.

Before long their coughing and screaming could be heard as the flames burnt away at their lower legs, slowly making their way up the fabric of their clothing and engulfing them with heat and flames so that they were no longer distinguishable. It should have been his Mudblood in their place. It should have been _her_ screams piercing the air and _her_ body convulsing with the pain of the flames. She should have been burned by now, and he wondered for a brief moment whether or not he could stand here as calmly as he was now and watch her die.

_… I'm building a little bonfire and you and your friends will be quite the main event…_

_… It would have been so much simpler and satisfying to watch the flames devour you…_

_… I will tear apart the whole of England until I find you, burning each and every Mudblood who gets in my way…_

_…YOU'RE GOING TO BURN IN HELL FOR THIS…_

_… Not before I make you burn with me…_

_…_ _What would the world hold for you then Draco Malfoy… _

"Sir?" Questioned a careful voice of one of the guards who now stood before him, snapping him out of his reverie.

"What is it?" He snapped.

"Permission to start escorting the Mudbloods back inside, Sir?" He asked, trying not to make eye contact.

"Yes, yes. Get them all out of my sight and clean up that mess." He ordered, thumbing over his shoulder to point to the charred mess that was once Hannah Abbot and Colin Creevey. The guard saluted him before scuttling off to issue his orders to the others. Draco straightened his robes and made for the exit of the camp having no purpose there anymore and wanting to escape his thoughts as quickly as possible. Burnings had always been a strange event for him and now he was sinking further and further into his own madness that had been brought on by that bothersome Mudblood.

He felt his fury building as he marched out of the camp with determination in his step, knowing that she was going to suffer cruelly at his hand the moment that he arrived home. He passed the guards who stood idly chatting at the entrance of the camp and as fury seized him, he swiftly grabbed one of them by the collar and leant over him intimidatingly.

"I'm fairly sure you have a job to do soldier. It's incompetence like this that leads to more and more Mudbloods infiltrating the city and so if I find there is one more Mudblood rebellion, then I will personally see to it that they burn you instead." He spat harshly in the man's face before throwing him back and apparating away.

He wished desperately that he could go home and lose himself within his Mudblood, however he had a whole day of work ahead of him before he returned.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters._

_Hey guys, just a quick one. Would've updated yesterday but FF was being impossible so it's later than I anticipated. Also, I typed this on my iPad and so if you spot any sentences that don't make sense or spelling mistakes then feel free to let me know. I was in rather a hurry to update and got too lazy to go over it again. _

_Again, M rated content in this chapter and so the warning applies (for all you 12 year olds out there). I'm not sure I'm exactly happy with this chapter so I'd appreciate your honest thoughts and if need be, I can do a rewrite. _

* * *

_**Chapter VI**_

Days bled slowly into weeks until Hermione had no grasp of time anymore. She had been completely isolated from the outside world while suffering under Malfoy's cruel hand for endless days and agonizing nights. By this time, her sanity was slowly slipping away from her as every day took the same course as the day before, and the day before that. The mundane repetition irked her more and more as the days dragged on while all she could do was sit in the prison she had made of his bedroom while watching the sun travel from east to west, waiting until the moment that he would unlock the door and force himself on her again.

She lay in bed after another long night in which sleep had evaded her for the most part. It seemed that she could sleep for only a short period before his presence beside her would shake her body awake and every time she would lay in a cold sweat with rapid breathing, plagued by the images of what he would do to her night after night. She slept with her back to him, as she would most nights so that she could try to pretend that he wasn't there in order to grant her troubled soul enough shreds of solace and calamity to get her to sleep each night, although she preferred to rest when he had left her for the day.

She could not see the sun this morning which made her approximate judgement of time much more difficult to make, for she hoped that it was already time for him to wake and leave her for the day. Daringly, she slowly turned her head and glanced over her shoulder at his sleeping form which was sprawled out carelessly on the other side of the bed with the white sheets entwined around his naked form. Craning her neck a little, she saw that his hand was only mere inches from her back causing the hair there to stand erect at his unnerving proximity.

Subconsciously, she arched her back as far as humanly possible in order to move as far from him as she could while she pulled the thin sheet up around the plains of her exposed back. She always made it a habit to cocoon herself in the bed sheets before she fell asleep, knowing from experience that he would always admire the smooth expanses of her skin that were marred by the bruises that he would leave just before his manly urges overtook him, prompting him to force himself on her again.

She had lost count of how many times it had happened since he had first took her, but each encounter was scarring in its own distinguishable way. He had told her that it would only hurt in the beginning in which she had been somewhat relieved about initially, but it seemed that each encounter would only add to the pain that she was already feeling. In fact, she much preferred it when he hit her instead for that pain would go as swiftly as it came, but the emotional pain that accompanied the shame of rape was too much to bear for a prideful woman like she had once been.

She shuddered slightly as she felt his hand sweeping across the sheets in her direction. She could feel the warmth from his hand as it hovered slightly above her flesh, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut with dread.

"Cold, my sweet?" Came his mocking voice from somewhere behind her as his hand finally made contact with her skin. His hand was warm in stark contrast to the cold silver of his ring which made her jump when it touched her flesh. "I'm sure we could remedy that, if you would only let me." He offered as his fingers skated lightly up and down her back in what she assumed to be was a comforting manner, although it had quite the opposite effect and sent cool dread to curl inside her stomach, making her want to vomit.

"You should know by now that I will never give myself to you willingly." She whispered brokenly without turning to face him.

"The more you resist me, the more it will hurt for you my sweet little Mudblood." His hand skated across her shoulder and brushed her cheek. He watched in anger as she cringed away from his touch, moving her own hand to push his arm away from her. As he had indulged himself increasingly with her, he had found that he cared less and less for the sickening thrill he received when she fought him off and when she screamed in protest to his ministrations. He still hated her with a burning passion and it confused him as to why he cared just that little bit more when he found her trying to resist. In his mind, it enticed him all the more when his fantasies revolved around a certain curly haired Mudblood who was ready to receive him. One who begged for his attentions and cried out not with her pain, but with her pure adulterated pleasure.

The more those thoughts filtered through his mind, the angrier he became with himself and the angrier he became with her. He was Draco Malfoy, favoured among the Dark Lord's loyal followers and therefore above reproach. It was not his fault that he lusted to the point of obsession over a lowly Mudblood - it was her fault! Surely she had bewitched him with some enchantment, so that he had eyes only for her and then she would reject his advances in an attempt to prolong his torment. It was because of her that he was treading dangerous ground with the things he was doing in order to keep her and word of his deal a secret from the world and most especially from the Dark Lord.

In a moment of frenzied conflict, he hauled himself up from the mattress and threw his leg over to the other side of her before rolling so that he hovered above her. She shrank back into the mattress as far as she could to avoid his burning gaze and close proximity. He swooped in quickly and stole a lingering kiss from her inviting lips, one that made him thirsty for more which he indulged himself in without hesitation.

"What are you doing?" She asked hesitantly, her fear shining evidently in her eyes. His gaze narrowed as she cowered beneath him further. He supposed that this was the only way that he would be able to have her and so he may as well play the part that she expected him to play: the cruel, heartless rapist. Little did he know that it was no longer a part to be played, but the harsh reality of what he had become.

"Don't ask questions you don't wish to know the answers to, Mudblood." He sneered cruelly. His touch which had started off tender and soft quickly became demanding and greedy. He abruptly reached down between them to pull the sheet which she had sought sanctuary from through the night away from her body. He tossed it uncaringly to the floor beside them both, baring their bodies to the crisp morning air.

"Please don't Malfoy. Please, not again." Her voice broke pitifully as she spoke. Draco rolled his eyes to himself, it was the same pleas that she made each and every time he initiated contact with her. But as per usual, her pleas fell on deaf ears and he quickly grew tired of her whining. He pulled away from her for a moment and looked at the shining of the tears in her eyes. He appeared to be deep in thought for a few moments until his eyes softened towards her, so much so that Hermione was actually under the impression that he was finally considering her feelings.

He saw the sliver of hope that sparked in her eyes which caused his gaze to harden and his mouth to downturn into a sneer.

"Shut up." He harshly demanded, wanting to laugh as he caught the final look of despair on her face before he silenced her expected protests with a bruising kiss which was not meant to inspire passion like his previous kisses. No, this was a demanding kiss with only one purpose; to punish.

He reached down in between them both and yanked her legs apart, just enough so that he had room to slip between her thighs and make his entrance. She twisted her head away from his lips while letting out muffled shouts and squeals as she tried in vain to dislodge him from his position above her. She could feel his growing arousal and doubled her efforts to remove him, clenching her fists and thumping his shoulders as hard as she possibly could. He quickly grew irritated with her feeble attempts and raised his hand before bringing it down on her cheek with such a force that her head was thrown to the side. While she was still in a state of shock, he captured both of her wrists in one hand and held them prisoner tightly above her head.

With his free hand, he held his weight above her while angling his hips to align himself with her. When he had found the optimum position, he bucked his hips roughly, forcing himself into her tightly clenched walls which offered much resistance to intrusion, almost to the point of pain. But alongside that pain, the friction caused by movement would only bring him immense pleasures which he could not wait to devour. The moment that he was buried to the hilt, his head fell back and he exhaled harshly while she whimpered with the pain that her futile resistance caused her.

"Oh fuck yes." He breathed out, closing his eyes to block out everything but the sensations that she was providing him with. Hermione's screams became choked with the tears of pain that were trickling at a steady pace from her eyes. His constant attentions paired with the resistance that she offered to him made the pain indescribable so that the friction of his movement burned her insides. She could feel each and every little tear that he would make in her flesh which would sometimes lead to bleeding afterwards and it was unlike any other hurt she had experienced.

He began to move at his own leisure, thrusting harshly into her unwelcoming body with force, each intrusion forcing a pained gasp from her slightly parted lips. His eyes drifted from her pained face which was quite frankly distracting him from achieving his own pleasure and settled on her neck. He was obsessed with her beautiful neck. He liked to watch the veins straining when he curled his fingers around the smooth expanse of skin and squeezed. He particularly liked that she had a little mole in the centre of the dip in her neck which he liked to kiss. In fact, she had moles in interesting places when he thought about it, although his favourite by far was the one that sat in the juncture where her inner thigh met her groin.

He leaned down and planted kisses up and down the neck that he loved so much before picking up his pace, for he was almost ready to finish. As he lay on top of her in this way, he could feel the hot sweat on their torsos mingling together as their skin slipped against each other. He could feel her ample breasts bouncing against his chest with his thrusts which excited him to no end as he bit down painfully on her neck. She put up no resistance now, since the pain was proving too much as he let go of his tight grip on her wrists, allowing the warm surge of blood to rush through the previously deprived blood vessels in her hands.

He leant back and placed both of his hands on her hips, pulling her to him as he thrust with increasing fervour. Soon enough, his thrusts became erratic and his legs shook with his impending orgasm. He let out low groans of pleasure with each movement inside of her until she felt the warmth of his release coating her insides.

When he finally stopped moving, she almost breathed a huge sigh of relief as the worst of the pain was over. For now at least.

~*:*~

Little under an hour later and he had finally left her for the day. She had already lain in bed, wrapped safely in the bed sheets as she drowned in her own mental lament. It was the usual thing after he left her, she would allow thoughts of self-pity to wash over her, much to her own disgrace. She had never been like this at one stage, but he had taken everything that she had once valued highly in her life and as a result she had been reduced to this pitiful mess.

Deciding that she had had long enough to wallow in her negativity for one morning, she forced herself to get up. Ignoring the food that Blinky had already brought for her, she wrapped the bed sheet around her and padded over to the drawers, pulling open the first one where Malfoy had put the clothes that he had bought for her over the weeks. At the moment, it consisted of only one dress.

He had bought it for her the day after he had took her for the first time. Of course, at first she had thought it quite a beautiful dress. It was a full length emerald green (she had expected no less from him) dress, quite simplistic in its design with a very low cut back and a simple V-neck in the front. It was a very loose fitting dress made of silk, cinched at the waist by an intricate sash of the same colour which accented the slight curve of her hips, before the skirt seemed to just spill out towards the floor, moving like a creature of its own when she walked in it.

Of course, when he had presented it to her she had refused to wear it despite how elegant she thought it was at the time, for she would wear nothing that he had to give to her. In fact, she would rather stay wrapped in the bed sheets stained in her own blood. In the end, he had threatened to dress her himself if she did not stop behaving like a pertinent child and so it was with a swallow of her pride that she reluctantly dressed for him.

It felt odd for her to dress in such a way, since she either stuck to Muggle clothing or the closest thing to it that she could find. She always thought that they were much more practical and more comfortable than Wizarding robes anyway. It did irk her slightly that he was trying to dress her up, almost like a Pureblood. She wondered if he was using pretty dresses to try and mask what he thought was filthy blood beneath it in order to satisfy his own sick fantasies and delusions.

The moment he had caught sight of her when Blinky had brought her down for dinner, the food had been hastily forgotten and he had dragged her back upstairs and proceeded to quite literally rip the garment from her body before forcing himself on her again. Needless to say, it wasn't a fond memory of hers, so she simply avoided wearing the dress in fear of a repeat performance and would stay wrapped in the bed sheets until he came back for her.

She stayed staring at the dress until the crack of apparition from somewhere behind her startled her. She whizzed around to see the other house elf who she had seen only a few times in the house, but never actually had the chance to speak to for it was usually Blinky who would bring her food which was barely ever eaten by her.

"G'morning Missy." The elf chirped with a smile as she set down the tray

"Hello. What's your name?" Hermione asked politely, somewhat thrilled at the possibility of talking to someone who didn't hate or want to hurt her.

"I is Pinky, Missy. I is coming to collect Missy's tray-" the elf cut herself off when she noticed that the food on the tray hadn't been touched for the entire hour that it had been up here. She frowned. "Why do you not eat the food that we is cooking for you, Missy?" She asked with an expression of hurt plastered on her face.

Hermione blanched. In reality, she was too scared to eat the food that he would give her for who knew what Malfoy could possibly have laced it with. For all she knew, he could have ordered the elves to spike her food with Amortentia in order to have her willingly participate in her own rape while screaming inside her head in protest. She tried to play it off as being a matter of pride, that she was simply too proud to eat food that he gave her and would starve herself in order to spite him when in fact, she had lost the majority of her pride and ego the moment that she had agreed to his deal.

"I'm sorry, Pinky. It's nothing personal, I'm just not hungry these days." She sighed before running her fingers across the water-like texture of the green silk in the open drawer.

"Why doesn't Missy put on the dress?" The elf's voice startled her from directly beside her. She jumped and looked down to see Pinky standing on her tiptoes to stare with admiration at the green dress that was folded neatly in the drawer. "Does Missy think it's not pretty anymore? I is thinking it's very pretty Missy."

Hermione wanted to laugh with how petty that sounded coming from the elf's lips. She didn't care for the dress in fear of it being torn off her again, not that it wasn't pretty.

"I don't care for it Pinky, it's just a dress." She mumbled before turning away from the drawer and walking over to the bed where she sat with a sigh.

"But Missy, it being much better than being in that bed sheet all day." Pinky tried to encourage her, although Hermione was quickly losing her patience.

"I will not wear it because _he_ will only tear it off me again!" She screamed out in frustration. "I will not encourage my own rape." She lowered her voice as she clenched her fists tightly at her sides.

"Missy, I is not supposed to talk about Master Draco like this." Pinky spoke, slightly embarrassed but also fearful. Her ears had dropped and her eyes were downcast and she fidgeted with the pillowcase that she wore. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Pinky spoke up again. "If Missy does not wear her dress then Master Draco will not be happy with Missy or Pinky because Pinky not doing her chores."

"I'm a chore?" Hermione questioned, her eyes narrowing harshly at the little elf across the room. Pinky's eyes widened.

"No Missy, I is speaking out of turn. Missy, do not take it that way." The elf pleaded. Hermione's fists quickly found her hair and she began tugging it with frustration. She had so much anger that she wished to be rid of but no outlet besides her own body. She didn't mean to be so cruel to the little house elf who had been nothing but pleasant as she went about doing the tasks she had been ordered to do.

"God damn it! Have I really been reduced to nothing but a mere object? A burden to others who have to make sure it's in good condition so that bloody Malfoy can come home and fuck it?" She burst out into tears noisily and sunk to the floor. Pinky hesitantly approached the crying girl and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as she sobbed out her fury and confusion at her current situation. The bed sheet slipped down her back, unwittingly bearing the culmination of bruises that remained after Malfoy's continuous assaults. Pinky was shocked but it quickly ebbed into pity for the poor Miss. She wanted to do whatever she could to make the Miss' stay here as bearable as it could possibly be.

"I'm sorry. I'm not usually like this, I-" She cut herself off with another sob.

"Missy does not have to wear the dress if Missy doesn't want to. I is sure I be able to find something for Missy to wear. Perhaps after a bath first?" Pinky offered kindly, noting the few smears of blood across the girls neck where her Master had presumably bitten. Hermione's crying stopped immediately.

"A bath? I haven't bathed in so long, it would be so greatly appreciated." She spoke hastily and with such emotion she could have been begging.

"I is not allowed to let Missy out of the room without Master Draco's permission, but I is sure that there being an old tub in the cellar." The elf pondered for a moment, closing her eyes in concentration as she tried to think.

True to her word, Pinky fetched Hermione an old metal tub from the cellar and filled it with hot water. She also made a quick trip to her own small room in the attic in order to find something she could use to make the Miss a dress that she could wear. In the end, the only sufficient fabric she could find was her own blankets. Now she sat on the floor with a sewing needle and her cotton bed blankets as she tried to stitch together a dress while Hermione soaked in the tub.

Hermione sighed again in pleasure. "It has been so long since I have bathed properly." She said wistfully, enjoying the way that the warm water caressed her skin, washing all of the grime that had accumulated over the weeks. Of course she hadn't been dirty, as Blinky had always reluctantly uttered a quick _Scourgify_ each morning to clean her up, not wanting to spend any more time in her offensive presence, but the effect of the spell wasn't as great as that of a warm bath.

"How long has it been, Pinky?" She asked out of the blue as she folded her arms over the edge of the tub and rested her head on top of them.

"Since what Missy?" The elf asked, looking up briefly from her sewing.

"Since I was brought here."

The elf looked up in thought for a moment, bobbing her head slightly as she counted mentally.

"It nearly being December now Missy, so I is thinking nearly two months." She replied before concentrating on her sewing before her again. Hermione mentally counted back in her head. If it was nearing December the she had been here for about a month and a half, give or take a few days.

Her blood ran cold for a moment, despite the comforting warmth of the water around her and she sat stone still besides the shaking of her hands. She could feel the vomit rising at her realisation and she tried desperately to swallow it down.

"Pinky, could you pass me that bowl please?" She spoke hastily so her mouth wasn't open for too long. She gripped the edge of the tub firmly to try and restrain herself as Pinky put down her sewing and walked over to the breakfast tray, retrieving an empty bowl and walking back to her with it. By the time Pinky neared the tub, Hermione was holding her free hand in front of her mouth as she felt vomit reach the back of her throat. Fearing she would be too late, she seized the bowl rudely from Pinky's hands and promptly expelled the meagre contents of her stomach into the fine china bowl in her hands. She was shaking when she had finished and her lower lip trembled with her shock.

She hoped to God that she had missed her period due to stress and not something else...


End file.
